


Possessionless

by ladyaconite



Category: Bleak House - Charles Dickens, Sweeney Todd (2007)
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Forced Marriage, Historical, Isolation, Loss of Virginity, Physical Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Victorian Attitudes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-12 21:16:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 82
Words: 82,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7122874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyaconite/pseuds/ladyaconite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would have happened if Johanna had gone through with marrying Judge Turpin? How would their relationship have evolved and would Johanna have ever escaped or learned her true past?<br/>Chapters with sexual, emotional, and/or physical abuse have (M) in the title, so you can avoid or access these parts more easily.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Quandry (M)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fan fiction awhile ago after seeing the Sweeney Todd film, as well as reading/watching a lot of Dickens books/movies.  
> Just as a note, I've somewhat changed Johanna's personality from what it is in the film and stage musical. I wrote her with Emmy Rossum's Christine Daee, and Dickens' Florence (Dombey and Son) and Amy Dorrit (Little Dorrit) in mind. So, yes, she follows in their footsteps of being too attractive, talented, and goodly to exist, but it's fan fiction.  
> Some Bleak House and Nicholas Nickleby characters make appearances throughout.  
> Also, I've tried to flesh out the character of Judge Turpin. Unfortunately, we didn't get to see enough of the superb Alan Rickman in the film to get a firm grasp on the character's motives. Turpin's still lecherous and narcissistic, but hopefully my reading of him delves further into his rationality.  
> Anyways, the first chapter is ridiculously long. Let me know if you enjoyed reading any part of it and constructive comments/suggestions are always welcome. Also, I have a crap title. I know.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There has been a change in the air at the Turpin household.

But how could he marry her? She was practically his daughter and he was practically her father. It was disgusting, selfish, immoral for him to think of this. And yet…Who else would make a perfect bride for him and husband for her. She was too naïve, innocent, young, perfectly innocent to be made the bride of someone else. He thought of his acquaintances that she could marry. They were almost all as old as him; those that were not were ladder-climbing law officials. He couldn’t have her marrying a slimy barrister or a pompous bore, as many of the men he knew were. The idea of another man marrying her and touching her upset him; of her belonging to some other man…No, that would never do. Besides his own personal revulsions, he had to remember what men were like. These men had never known Johanna. They would take advantage of her sweetness and naivety. They would turn her into something normal: a housewife who organized their household finances and dinner parties and gossiped with the other housewives in her class and gave them children…The thought of that stopped his heart. These men were not for her. They would dismiss her little hopes and dreams and interests and tell her they were infantile or made her dull and stupid. They would degrade her. No, no, no, no.  
Johanna had been the only spark of light in his dark life. After a day of hearing testimonies from liars, cheats, and murderers, he would return home to see her looking out the window or playing with her toys or reading a book and he would be reminded that there was some goodness in this city and world and that, moreover, it belonged to him. While he had long ago recovered from any moral quandary about sentencing people to the gallows, he sometimes found himself questioning his impunity when he took bribes from men or found himself in line with the Beadle. These thoughts merely prickled underneath his contained exterior, his normally self-secured idea that he was above the vermin that freely walked and crowded the streets of London. However, when he returned home and Johanna was waiting for him, he was able to settle these nagging thoughts. Her idealization of him and trust in him, combined with the fact that he knew he had done a charitable act by adopting her as his ward, assuaged any of his moral dilemmas. While passing judgment on those before him in court gave him a natural elation, he knew it was a slightly tainted and perverted one. The one he experienced when he was with Johanna was pure. She gave him further confidence in his righteousness and, in turn, made his sentencing of men to the gallows or to a lifetime rotting in jail seem like saintly act since it would keep them away from ever harming her. Yes, her presence had brought him peace, until this past year.  
The Judge wanted her to himself; wanted her to belong to him in every sense of the word; wanted her to not know the horrors of the world; wanted her to live for him alone; wanted her to quake underneath his power and know he was her master…but also worship him and kiss him sweetly and sleep lightly next to him every night in the knowledge that she was safe with him. He imagined himself sitting in his study late at night working on papers and her coming in to see how he was, bringing him a cognac or brandy, leaning over his shoulder and asking if he was alright, almost begging him to come to bed because she loved him so, but refusing to nag him. He sometimes imagined he would raise his eyebrow to her and she would leave, bestowing a lingering kiss upon his cheek. Other times he imagined that he would carefully push his chair back from the desk and open his legs for her to sit upon his lap; she would be so grateful that he was paying attention to her. He would kiss her and begin circling his hands on her bosom and lead her lithe fingers to the buttons on his trousers. Were both possible, he wondered. Fear and love? He laughed to himself as he remembered conversations very much like this occurring in his dormitory at Eaton in concern to Machiavelli’s Prince.  
He returned to his previous thoughts. No, she wasn’t simple and stupid. That was clear from her ability to mostly teach herself how to read and draw and play games. She wasn’t some dullard woman who only took interest in clothes and gossip and embroidery. She had been a curious and smart child with spirit and though he could tell that being confined to the house with no playmates and being taught proper female etiquette by that huegonot may have dimmed some of that light, he liked to believe that not being exposed to the material and vulgar concerns of the world had also fostered a more brilliant, pure, sincere light. If he gave her to some other man, he would try to make her like all the others or he would…He would beat her. And he’d be within his rights to, as the Judge fully knew and fully supported. But, no, she couldn’t have that life. He may have wanted to have her to himself and have her fear him, but he did not want to hit or kick her even a little bit; he would use the disciplining methods that had generally worked on her: stern voice, firm rules, a raised eyebrow, standing up so that he towered over her, threats when necessary. He had only ever had to give her the switch once: that incident with the boy when she was seven. What other man would understand that she did not need to be beaten to understand when she had stepped out of line? Those that did would use more manipulative methods, he thought. Eventually, crush her spirit.  
Yes, He would keep her here and she would take care of him. She had expected to do this all her life, hadn’t she? Except now it would be as his wife because he could no longer escape her womanly allure. She could be happy in the fact that she would be bringing him happiness and was marrying someone who knew her every story. Who knew how sad she could become when she read or heard a tragic tale or how happy when…Well, lately, her moments of happiness had not had the same intensity as her moments of sadness, he recalled. Of course, this could be the influence of the etiquette lessons: a lady shouldn’t be overly ecstatic about things as it appears childish. And didn’t that happen to everyone as they got older? More moments of sadness than joy? But she had had a few moments of pure happiness in the recent past, like when he had taken her to the theatre to see that production of Hamlet last year. It was the only play she had ever seen and she had been mesmerized by it. He remembered how at the end of it she had gripped his hand tightly because she was worried about what would happen with the glass of wine, even though she had read the play.  
That had been the beginning of his unhappiness. It had been the beginning of his realization that she no longer was a little girl, but a woman. The way her body was silhouetted against the light, the way her now fuller lips parted, the way her corset formed to her budding curves. It had startled him. He was further alarmed when he came back to retrieve her from their box (he of course had rented a box as to prevent her from being exposed to the crowd and to show what an important man he was) after getting their coats, and found her talking animatedly to a young man in the box next to theirs. He watched how unreserved she was with him; she was smiling at him and laughing at something he had said. The Judge was pleased to note that she was neither smiling nor laughing in a coquettish manner, but in the manner of a young girl. He was not pleased to see the ease with which she conversed with this young man nor the astonishment and awe that was apparent upon the young man’s face. He stood there for a minute watching, his mind recovering from the shock that Johanna was acting so unreserved and turning to hatred for this young boy staring at her and for himself for leaving her alone. He finally announced himself by clearing his throat. Johanna turned to face him and he saw the smile disappear and her face take on an embarrassed and guilty look. She looked down at the floor, while the boy, oblivious to her shame, asked the Judge if she was his daughter and introduced himself, stupidly holding out his hand to the Judge. The Judge meanly glared at him and the boy realized that he was unwelcome. He turned his face toward Johanna and said, “It was very nice to meet you. I hope you don’t find The Tempest too bizarre. I hope I haven’t….goodnight.” He tipped his hat and went back to his own box, presumably to collect his things and depart. Johanna hadn’t lifted her face yet, though the Judge had espied her looking up at him to see his face. She was biting her lip, waiting, he thought, for me to yell at her. He told her that they were going home, giving her no clue to the anger which festered inside of him. She remained quiet as they exited the theatre and got into the cab. After a few minutes of silence, Johanna finally spoke. This had been what he wanted; her to speak first and admit her guilt. She softly said, “Thank you for taking me to the play, father.” He only murmured, “mmm.” Another moment of silence went by. Finally, she said, “I heard him asking a friend if he had an extra program and –“ “And he leaned over the box and asked you?” “No, I leaned over and handed him mine.” Her face was filled with guilt and the Judge was pleased that he didn’t have to tell her why she had behaved inappropriately. “I was only trying to be charitable. I didn’t mean to start a conversation with him,” she continued. “It’s just that we started…we started to talk about the play and Shakespeare and what works of his were our favorites! He said how he thought Hamlet was the most important play Shakespeare had ever written and I said that I thought Macbeth was and he said that he was surprised to hear me say that because he thought since I was a girl I would be in love with Romeo and Juliet or King Lear! Can you imagine, father?!?” As she had related the story her face had mirrored the sincere and excited look that she had had when talking to the boy; gone was her shame until she remembered who she was talking to. She repeated her question hesitantly, “Can you imagine, father?” The Judge only stared at her, lifting an eyebrow to show her his displeasure. With a crestfallen look she apologized, “I am sorry, father, if I behaved inappropriately tonight. I…I…I was so excited by the play and crowds and…and to see another young person, that I forgot my…sense of decorum and your…rules. I promise that the next time we go I won’t act like this. Everything was just so new and wonderful.” She looked at his face to see a response, but the Judge, of course, knew how to hide his feelings and thoughts and she could not unearth them. The carriage moved along and filled with silence as the Judge chose his words carefully. He had been taken off guard by two things tonight: first, how much of a woman Johanna had become, and second, by how unreserved she was. As she had animatedly talked to the boy and just now in the carriage, as she excitedly explained her conversation with the boy, he had caught a glance of how her chest rose and fell in her excitement. He was perturbed by this and was trying to push these pervaded images out of his mind. “Johanna,” he finally began, “I do not pretend to be the kindest guardian in the world –“  
“But you are very kind to me!”  
“Let me finish. I am not the sort of guardian who buys you whatever you want when you want it or lets you do whatever you wish. I am not kind in the sense that this world defines kindness as I have seen too much of the black, sinful soul of its people to be that sort of hapless, nice fool. No, I administer my kindness and love towards you in a different way, a better way that will keep you from being crushed and used by this unforgiving world.” “I know, father.” “If you knew this then why did you disobey one of me and talk to that young man? If you remembered what I told you about boys, then why did you speak to him? Hmmm?” Johanna hung her head in shame and he could tell that she was trying not to cry. He was beginning to feel himself become master over her again and his anger was subsiding. “Johanna, I do not wish to see you travel down the road of ruin and so we will not be going to the theatre again until you have proved to me and yourself that you can behave in a dignified manner. I enjoyed tonight’s play until you created a spectacle yourself.”  
Johanna let out a sob, “Please, father, do not let my stupidity ruin the day for you. I acted selfishly, I am sorry. Please forgive me. You never…you never have to take me to another play again if you don’t want to. I’m sorry.” And with that she grabbed his hand and cried into it while she kissed it. If this were any other girl, he would think her being theatrical, but he knew that that was not Johanna’s way. She meant the words she had uttered and took his hand as a sign of how sincere her feelings of shame were.  
The Judge felt her face with the hand she had been crying on and said, “There, there. You are smart enough to realize your mistake and I am thankful that some of my teachings have gone through to you. I know you are a good girl, but I was wrong in taking you out to a place with so many people. I will judge more wisely next time. Hmmm?”  
She gave a laugh of relief and unexpectedly moved next to the judge to rest her head against him and hold his hand, letting her tears stop gradually, as if she were still a little girl. It was hard for the Judge to know just what he was feeling as she sat next to him. He was surely feeling comforted that he still had control over his ward and that she was still as innocent and trusting of him as she had been when she was a little girl, but was equally distressed by the ebbing, tiny feelings of lust he had for her as she sat next to him, squeezing his hand, resting her corseted figure next to his. He was glad when they arrived home and he was allowed to wish her a goodnight. He hadn’t dared to watch her as she ascended the stairs.  
Yes, that had been the beginning of his distress. He started visiting with her less. He no longer held conversations with her at her bedside. He left earlier in the morning to avoid seeing her at breakfast and miss her ritual kiss on his cheek as he left for work. A few months later, he even made himself stop having tea with her when he returned from work. He brought the Beadle home with him more and more to share his tea and supper with him, knowing that if he was at tea, Johanna would not come down to join them, and if he was at dinner, Johanna would not sit directly across from him and the Judge would not have to converse with her. A part of him was glad to note that she did not like this new attitude of his towards her. She would sometimes come down after he and the Beadle had finished smoking cigars and departed ways; she would knock on the door softly and peer her head in. Sometimes she would just stand there and say how she hoped the Beadle was well and then wish him goodnight, and other times she would come into the room and sit down and ask him how his day was and what he was doing the next day. He would do all he could not to look over her form and only concentrate on her face; sometimes, though, he knew this was impossible and would just talk to her while he moved away from her to look at his books. At times, she would linger in the room waiting for him to converse, until she realized it was hopeless, and at other time she would leave after he had said basic answers to her questions. He would say goodnight from where he was, on the couch looking at her or with his back turned towards her, and she would say goodnight again and leave. But then there were those times that she walked over to him and gave him a peck on the cheek like she had been doing before bed every night since she was four. His cool demeanor had clearly given her the impression that he did not wish for her company, but habits were hard to break and he could not lie that he was happy that his put-on aloofness had not completely diminished this tradition. Of course after she left, he would agonize over the kiss for an hour or so; he knew she could not mean it in a teasing way (surely not) and so he did not shrink from her kisses, but dear God, the confusing heap it left him in. He had made sure that she no longer rested against him by moving around the room if she tried to sit beside him (leaving her with a confused and hurt face he noted with pleasure), but he did not have the will power to abolish the kissing ritual.  
One day, sitting alone in his study, he decided that he would tell her that she was becoming a woman and things could not exist as they had before. She could not kiss him goodnight anymore or rest her head against him. He silently climbed up the stairs but just before he was about to knock on her door, her heard singing coming from her room. He could hear her sweet, simple, untrained voice coming through the door. Suddenly, as if out of a long forgotten dream, he remembered the eyehole that looked into her room. He hadn’t used it in a long time. He had put it in when she was a little girl to see if she was up to mischief before he opened the door. He hadn’t used it since she was 13 and she would come down when he got home and seek his company or keep her door open for him to seek hers. He had noticed a few weeks ago that she had begun closing it again. Why? He suddenly thought, filled with dread. He quickly and quietly opened the peephole and gazed in. There she was sitting by that damned window. She had often done that as a little girl and he suspected that she still did that, looking out onto the world from which she was banned, though, until these last few months, he thought that she looked out at it less now that he and she could have more equal conversations.  
He stared at her, silhouetted at the window. It was a rainy day and she was following the rain drops down the window with a finger while a book rested in her lap. She was carelessly humming and singing, sighing between bars. The Judge could not help but peek at her chest which looked so…so tempting beneath her white…No! he said to himself, averting his eyes from the hole only to return them quickly. He saw her pickup her embroidery which was resting against the window pane and put her book there. She continued to sew the pattern, her face betraying that she found the activity boring and frustrating. The judge watched her as she did this for about 10 minutes, he watched as her bosom rose and fell, he noted as it did this more quickly until it disappeared from his sight when she curled her legs up to her chest, threw her embroidery to the floor and began crying. The Judge now felt worse than before as if he were stumbling upon a highly private moment, however, he did not stop watching as she let herself sob for a few minutes, then got up, picked up the embroidery, placed it gently on the windowsill and went over to the basin sink to wash her face. He saw her face the window again and lean against the basin, as if deciding what to do next. The Judge knew that he couldn’t tell her what he had come up here to tell her and so he closed the peep hole and quietly escaped down the stairs, back into his study where he did the uncharacteristic thing of drinking himself into a stupor.  
That had all been months ago. How many times had he looked through that peep hole to see her in her private moments? He shuttered to think. She was so lovely and fair. As he fell asleep at night, he would often imagine her getting ready for bed; how the light would penetrate that simple, sheer nightgown, how she would wash her face, neck, chest with a washcloth, how she would comb her hair and then braid it, and finally blowout the candle. No, he had not spied on her as she got ready for bed. He had enough dignity to not do that, but it was becoming harder and harder for him to forbid himself from what was sure to be a pleasurable sight. He tried to stop himself from fantasizing about this and about anything at all concerning Johanna, but it was impossible. He found his hand nearing his stiffened member as he lay in bed waiting for sleep to come. He would pass his hand up and down it and then would immediately stop and berate himself for such a disgusting thought. Eventually, his thoughts would return to think about her parting lips, her soft skin (her everything!) until he fell asleep.  
He had even gone to brothels in order to quench his need. He went to the opium dens, despite not taking opium, to have the lovely little Chinese girls fix his problem; their hands running over him and saying foreign words mixed with poorly spoken pigeon English. He went to the best, most expensive brothels where only girls who were knowledgeable about how to please a man fully and were free of disease resided. He even went to the street girls to get a quick suck in hopes of curing his lust. But nothing worked. Initially, it allayed his feelings toward Johanna for a few days, but then they would return with tremendous force. Those whores were so unlike her. So unlike her.  
And so he would have to marry her. It was amazing how fast one’s mind could rationalize an issue when pressed. She would not reject him, he thought, because she loved and obeyed him. He had set more rules about her staying confined to her room over the past few months, rules given without reason and accepted with her saddened reply “Yes, of course, father. If it is what you wish.” He would ask her tomorrow, tell her how he loved her. And she would give that answer to him, wouldn’t she? He would be released from this slave of lust and love finally. He would have a piece of heaven completely to himself.


	2. The Demand (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Judge has an important question for Johanna.

After having his tea downstairs the next day, Judge Turpin climbed the stairs to his ward’s bedroom. Before entering, he looked in through the peephole. Johanna was sitting in a bewitching white muslin gown; the light shone through it revealing her womanly form. She was sitting at the windowsill despite its being shuttered. The Judge had shuttered it a month ago after hearing in court how a young man had sent messages to a girl while standing beneath the window pane. He had sent the boy to Australia for some other minor crime and felt vindicated, but there were many horrid young men like him of whom he had to protect Johanna from.  
She sat there moving her hand against the wood listlessly. Her embroidery resting on her lap untouched. He reassumed his magisterially air, stood up, and unlocked the door entering her room without a knock. She quickly stood up in surprise, her hand going to her breast.  
“Father, you gave me a fright”  
“Who else would be coming into your room, Johanna? I trust you’ve not been looking out that window again.”  
“No, of course not, but I am so used to sitting here that sitting anywhere else in here seems strange.”  
“Yes, of course,” he said slowly as he watched her pick up her embroidery that had fallen to the floor when he had entered and place it back on the window sill. “How sweet you look in that light muslin gown, Johanna.” He said as he was consumed with lust.  
“This? It is only an old dress, father. I have owned it for ages…Would you prefer me to change into one of my newer ones?” she asked and moved towards her wardrobe.  
God how she tempts me, he thought. “No, no Johanna. We have important matters to discuss. Sit.” He pulled out the chair from her dressing table to sit upon and smiled at her. He would stand and then kneel he had decided earlier.  
She sat down in the chair with a confused and concerned look. “Has something happened, father? Have I done something that has displeased you?”  
“In a way, Johanna, yes something has happened and yes at first there was something concerning you that did displease me” he replied smugly. He looked down to see her face gazing up at him for answers. He paused, this was harder than he thought, but made himself regain composure and he said the words slowly and calculatedly. “Johanna, I have always told you about the wickedness of men. The lurid thoughts of the venal young men of the street. The men with only one thought in their heads. But there are men of different and far higher breed… I have one in mind for you.”  
 “You do, father? You mean a man for me to marry?”  
“Yes, a gentle man, who would shield you from all earthly cares and guide your faltering steps to the sober warmth of womanhood — a husband — a protector — and yet an ardent lover too. It is a man who through all the years has surely earned your affection. Who has known you almost your entire life –“  
“Father, you cannot mean the Beadle?” she said and stood up looking at him horrified.  
“The…the…the Beadle? Of course not you silly girl, I mean me!”  
The Judge saw her face go from one of horror to one of shock, as pale as her white dress. She sat down again not saying anything, just staring at the floor, taking in short hectic breaths. He realized he had not executed this with very much finery, but her assumption that he would have her marry the Beadle caught him off guard and he could not contain his distaste. He knelt beside her chair and grabbed her hand, caressing it.  
“Oh, Johanna, my little rosebud, if only you knew how ardently I love you. How much I have loved you these last few months. How it has tormented me.” He looked at her face and said more soberly “I know this must be a surprise for you, one so innocent, but surely you can see that it is the best thing for both of us –“  
“I…I…I cannot” she staggered out and stoodup moving away from him. She turned toward him, he still kneeling by her chair, “And it is cruel of you to ask me. How…How can you ask me this?” her voice had taken on a tone of disbelief and anger. The Judge was too surprised to answer back. “I have loved you like a father! How can you ask me to love you like a… You are too cruel to me! You have evaded me ever since the incident at the theatre and made me feel as if I didn’t matter to you and you were ashamed of me and now you ask me to be your wife! Why are you treating me so? Please, please tell me what I have done to make you hate me in such a manner, father.” She sank onto her bed, her face hidden in her hands.  
The Judge hardly knew how to respond. Hate her? Women were such odd and elusive creatures. However, he would not respond hastily to her emotional distress. He would remain in control of the situation. As he began to speak, she interrupted, “Please, I cannot…I cannot.”  
“You can and you will!” He replied more harshly than he intended. “Johanna, Johanna, stop crying and look at me” he said in a less harsh, but firm tone. “Johanna.” She looked up. “I can see how you may see this as a confusing situation. I admit that when I first realized how in love I was with you, I was alarmed by my own passions. I have acted as I thought most prudent by trying to allay my feelings, but to no avail. I have analyzed the situation and have come to the judgment that our marriage would and could be one of joy. I can protect and guide you from the cruelties that your innocent and loving nature would be exposed to if you married any other man.” He looked down at her and saw her face was looking toward the window, exposing a look of pain. He would use one of those tricks he had learned from law school, denounce a part of himself, but make his whole self look better in the end. “ I…I may not be as young and…handsome as that insipid young man at the theatre, but I…”  
“You think I am in love with that boy at the theatre?” she cried looking up at him. “I am not so stupid and naïve to fall in love with someone I only meant once.”  
“Then perhaps you are in love with some other man, Johanna. Some handsome young street boy you’ve communicated to through the window” he said suspiciously and meanly, as if she were on trial.  
The Judge looked at her face and she stood up in complete disbelief. She turned away from him and sat beside the window, tracing the wood of the shutter with her finger, trying to formulate her next sentence. “I never thought I would marry someone of my choosing,” she began still looking at the window sill. Her words sounded as if they were coming from far away. “I always thought you would pick a man for me who you deemed honorable and righteous who would treat me kindly-“  
“And so I have, Johanna, myself.” He said moving a little bit closer toward her.  
She looked at him then down at the ground biting her lip as if worried of her next words’ effects. “Yes, but I thought you would chose someone for me when you thought I was old enough to enter the world. I thought you would let me marry someone who would free me from this house.” She returned to looking forlornly at the shutter, tracing the same spot over and over again as if it provided her some sort of comfort.  
The room remained quiet and still for the next few minutes. The Judge standing a few feet away from Johanna, contemplating his next plan of attack. He had not expected this reaction. He had thought that perhaps she would be surprised and maybe even a little bit sad, but that she would soon understand the greatness of this union and would take joy in the idea of making him happy. He would not let her fly off into the world. He would marry her and marry her soon. If he didn’t, he knew he would die. Why was she behaving in such a fashion? As she had said, she always knew she would not pick her husband. How could she be so revolted by the idea of marrying him when she did not know what went on behind closed doors in marriages, unless. He was seized with horror and examined her more closely. Did she know what a man and woman did together. He thought of those books he had at the very top of his bookshelf in his study (his bookshelf, the one he had told her not to take books from since they held important records). Had she disobeyed him and read about the brothels of India and the lovely geishas of Japan? Or was it from overhearing some of those immoral maids in the kitchen? No, no he thought. She simply had to get used to the idea. Surely if he gave her some time, but also a warning of what would happen if she refused him, she would bend to his will.  
“Johanna, I can be a patient man. You have a fortnight to decide if you will marry me. That should give you enough time to begin thinking of me as your husband. You will see that in many ways being a dutiful wife isn’t very different from being a dutiful daughter, which you are normally very good at being. I can no longer love you just as a daughter. If you value my happiness at all and are at all grateful, you will adjust your thinking and marry me.” Johanna looked at him and opened her mouth to interject. He waved his hand at her. “If you do not marry me, I will be forced…I will be forced to let you have your wish of freedom. I will let you go out into the world with nothing but that sheer muslin dress to protect you from the world’s coldness and evil intentions. You will receive no money from me and without any profitable skills, I dare not think of what the world will make you do to earn money for bread and butter. You think this cruel, no doubt, but I think it would be cruel of you to deny the man who has fed, protected, bestowed gifts upon, and loved you all these 15 years a taste of what the true happiness of requited love is. I will leave you now to think upon this.” He turned to leave, but turned back around and walked to the window sill to plant a kiss on top of her forehead, a lingering kiss. She didn’t shrink from him, but she also didn’t look up. She just sat there still looking straight ahead, drawing in irregular, shallow breaths. He left her, closing and locking the door behind him. He went downstairs to get a drink of whiskey and then left the house. He needed a ring.


	3. Muddled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter on the emotional turbulence Johanna is currently feeling.

Johanna sat in her room still stunned by the events. What had happened? She was in shock and hardly knew what to do. The Judge loved her? Like a husband? Like a lover from one of the fairy stories? Had he been drunk or drugged? She had never known him to have been either, but how else could she explain this? And what had he said about a fortnight? If she didn’t agree, he would throw her out? She felt more alone than she had ever felt. Everything felt like it was whirling out of control. She went to the door to open it. If she could just talk to him sensibly. Of course, it was locked, as it often had been the last few months. Why couldn’t he see how impossible what he asked was? All she wanted now was for him to come back and say it was a joke and take her in his arms and let her cry into him, stroking her hair like when she was a little girl. But she knew that this wasn’t a joke. The Judge never joked. She hugged one of her bedposts and slid down to the floor, crying and holding onto it.   
She didn’t know how much time she had spent on the floor crying. But when she finally stood up, removed her clothes, and got into bed, the clock struck 1am. She pulled the covers over her head to hide from the world and slept a troubled sleep.   
When she awoke, the house was already up. On a small tray on her dresser, her breakfast waited for her, cold. She had no appetite. After using the lavatory and washing her face, she moved toward the door to open it, hoping it would be unlocked. Of course it wasn’t and she went back to her bed to relive what had happened the day prior.   
What would she do? She did not want to defy him. She wanted him to love her like a daughter forever. What were the differences between being a daughter and a wife and if she did end up on the street, how could she make her living?  
She thought about what she knew about marriages. In all the fairy stories and some of Shakespeare’s plays, the heroines married men they felt romantic towards; somehow she knew this was different than the love she felt for the Judge. She knew that the couples kissed differently, like that man and woman she had seen in the park had: on the mouth. And somehow babies appeared that the couple called their own and took care of. And yet, women without husbands were given babies, as well but were shunned from society. Somehow a baby appeared in a woman’s stomach. What did it all mean? She sometimes felt that she got closer to the knowledge of what it all meant, as if she understood what this secretive reason was, but she never really fully knew. Perhaps being a wife to the Judge wouldn’t be so horrendous. As soon as she thought this, Johanna wanted to throw herself from her window. She didn’t want him kissing her that way. Something about it made her feel dirty and scared.  
Johanna spent the day sitting on her bed in her nightgown rocking back and forth trying to think of a solution and how she could not displease the Judge, periodically falling back into a troubled sleep. Whenever she awoke, there would be a new meal waiting for her that she was just as disinterested in as the cold breakfast that had awaited her that morning. She wasn’t hungry. Perhaps she would die of starvation and that would solve her problem. But that would take a long time. Christ had lived 40 days without food and she did not think she had that willpower. Eventually she fell back asleep, leaving her supper uneaten.


	4. An Outing (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna is allowed to venture outside the house, but is the outing what she hopes for?

The next two days followed like this. Johanna didn’t even notice she hadn’t eaten or drank anything or changed her clothes in three days. She would sit and contemplate the same things and think back on how things used to be. She would then cry and fall asleep. The Judge of course knew this. He knew that she hadn’t eaten or drunk anything because the maids told him, but also because he had watched her through the peephole. Despite the fact that she had not changed or washed in 3 days, she still looked beautiful, he mused. He wondered what she was thinking of and it aggravated him that she no longer talked aloud to her dolls about her thoughts and feelings, telling them her deepest secrets. His lust during these moments was insatiable. He wanted to open the door, startle her, hold her down against the bed, kiss her sweet lips, and take her virginity.  
This issue had been a problem for him, the issue of her virginity. He wanted to keep her a virgin, yet also have her satiate his desires. He also wanted to avoid having offspring. Of course, she could wear a sponge and he could have her drink that concoction if she did become pregnant, but that sometimes killed the mother or proved ineffective. Perhaps he would want a son to carry on his legacy some day, but not now while his wife - future wife - remained so young and soft and virtuous. She could live for their son some other time, now was the time for her to serve him. And thus, he had decided that for the first year or so she would serve him in ways that would not allow her to become with a child, but more importantly would satiate his lust without ruining her virtue. After a year or so, he would decide what to do next, but the thought of just having her next to him in bed to touch and feel made him deliriously happy. The taking of her virginity could wait.  
At the end of the fourth day, he began to worry about his plan. He did not want her to become ill and this was the fourth day with no food or drink. Perhaps she did not realize the severity of his threat, after all, he thought, she did not know what London looked like at night or in the slums. She had seen only the parts of London he deemed reputable and most of it from a carriage. In truth, he knew that he would not turn her into the streets, rather he would have the Beadle take her to the insane asylum in the city where she would reside until she repented.  
But she did not know that, so yes, he would show her what London looked like at night! He rang the bell and told the maid to go up and get Miss Johanna ready for an outing. The maid looked surprised, but went upstairs to follow his orders. About an hour later, Johanna appeared in the doorway of his study looking weary, but beautiful. She had clearly bathed and the maid had been mostly successful in turning her unwashed hair into a nice braid. Johanna was wearing a white dress with long sleeves that was corseted. The Judge had to restrain his thoughts as he looked at her. He dismissed the maid and said,  
“Johanna, as I am sure you remember I told you that you had two weeks to decide whether you would be a grateful or ungrateful child-“  
“It has only been four days, father!” There was an urgency to her voice. The Judge realized she must have thought he was throwing her out now.  
“I am not dismissing you from this house now, Johanna. I hope you do not think me as cruel as that. No, I know you have had a poorly time of it for the past few days and I intend to take you on a nice carriage ride to soothe your nerves.” She looked at him confused and surprised.  
“Oh...thank you. But it is so late.”  
“ Yes, well it could not be arranged earlier. Come the cab is waiting outside.”  
The maid gave them their coats and Joanna followed him into the black hansom cab where she was forced to sit next to him. The Judge noted how she tried to make herself smaller against one side of the cab. He had told the cabby before the route he wished to take. First, through the safe streets where the opera houses and respectable theatres were, and then into the slums, ending up in White Chapel. He made sure she looked out the windows and he pointed out certain sites to her.  
Finally, they started to enter the slums. As the cab stopped because of traffic, the voices of a couple fighting and calling each other names entered the cab; the couple came into view. The man was rubbing a fat beer belly, while the woman was yelling at him with her coarse tongue and at the same time hitting their son with the back of her hand. He saw that Johanna was looking at the scene with distaste. The cab turned the corner, but had to stop on account of a group of drunken men passing the road, swearing at the cabby. Johanna’s eyes opened up in amazement and fear and the Judge watched her knowing his plan was working. Soon more drunken and loud people became apparent and the glare of hazy gas lamps gave the slums a more ominous feel. The smell of the slums was also beginning to penetrate the cab and he watched as Johanna coughed from the putrid smell.  
Then they turned a corner where he knew the women of the night waited for customers. The cab made its way slowly down the street. A few were walking around holding the arms of their gents, while others were making calls at unattended men to try their goods. There were also those girls, he thought, who looked as fragile as Johanna begging for money and walking the streets. He saw Joanna staring at one of these waifs through her window; the girl was a little younger than her and in the midst of a coughing fit.  
“Consumption. She probably won’t live for more than a few months…What your mother died of.”  
The pivotal moment came when a drunken whore exposed her large breasts to an eager young man who came up and eagerly felt them and stuck his face in between them. All this happening just feet away from the cab. Johanna quickly drew the blinds and sat there looking ashamed and scared. There was noise of people yelling and horrendously played music blasting out of every tavern. He saw a few tears stain her cheek and the father in him (or was it the lover?) wanted to comfort her, but he had a mission and it was…All of a sudden the cab stopped so that a drunken party could pass; at the same time the door on Johanna’s side opened and two whores who appeared to be about the same age as Johanna peered in. Johanna moved away from them scared.  
One of them said “Evening gent…oh and a lady! My my aren’t we an odd bunch. Well I’ve never done a foursies, but I won’t say no if the price is right.” The two girls chuckled; he could feel Johanna sitting closer to him in utter fear. He got out his cane and pointed it at the intruders telling them they had no interest in purchasing their wares. “Oh aren’t we the reformers? Just come to look at the poor, suffering ladies of the night? Alright, alright, dearies. But I promise you, gov” she said pointing at the judge, “we’ll give you a nicer time than miss manners here with her delicate skin and lace knickers!” as the one said this the other reached her hand in to feel Johanna’s legs, which made her gasp and turn her face into the judges chest.  
The girls laughed and ran away, slamming the cab door behind them. The cab began to lurch forward again while Johanna cried against him, holding onto him. The Judge had not expected such an opportune event to occur. He had meant to make her start to seriously see the dangers of her refusal, but this utter fear and need of him he hadn’t anticipated. He wrapped his arms around Johanna and felt her trembling and crying against him. He rubbed his arms up and down her back, kissing the top of her forehead.  
“Please, please let’s go home. Oh, please!” she sobbed.  
The Judge jabbed his cane against the top of the cab and heard the cabby say, “Home it is, sir.” As the carriage made its way slowly home, the putrid smell began to dissipate and the crowds became less vulgar and loud. He continued to gently caress and comfort Johanna who had stopped crying but was still trembling; he remembered she hadn’t eaten or drunk anything in four days. As he caressed her, his hands had felt the sides of her breasts, which he thought, with pleasure, were squeezed against his body. As they neared the house, the Judge lifted her face and began kissing her mouth. She tried to pull away from it, but he held her tighter. He then kissed around her cheeks, tasting her salty tears and feeling the warmth of her face. He ended with a kiss upon her brow just as the cab pulled up to the house.  
The cabby helped the frazzled young lady out of the cab. The Judge followed behind her, having paid the man his fee. His hand unsuccessfully reached for her at the front door just as the maid opened it to let them in. Johanna hastily took off her coat and hat and gave it to the maid without speaking a word. She looked like she was somewhere else. As the Judge did the same, he watched as she hurriedly made her way up the stairs to her room. With haste, she closed her door.


	5. A Question (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Judge presses Johanna for an answer to his demand, while Johanna has questions of her own.

The next morning the Judge was not pleased to note the maid coming downstairs after breakfast with a full tray of untouched food. She hadn’t eaten again! He would talk to her when he came back from court.  
When the Judge did return home, it was not yet tea time. With light steps, he ascended the stairs to peek in on Johanna. To his joy, he saw that she was not in the bed again, but pacing back and forth, her hands crossed against her chest. Her previously slovenly appearance was changed, as well. She was attired in one of her house dresses, with her hair nicely combed down her back. An anxious look was set upon her face. The Judge looked over and saw that there was a tray of food that suggested she had eaten over half of it. He went to the door, unlocked it, and entered.  
Johanna turned to look at him, but she was not surprised like she had been the other time. “Father” she said timidly.  
“Johanna” he responded lifting an eyebrow. She went and sat by the window. He looked at her tray of food. “You’ve ended the fast, I see.”  
She looked down at the ground. “Father? You took me on the cab ride last night to make me see how poor people…poor women are forced to live and act, yes?” She looked up at him.  
“Yes, I have tried to shield you from that world of wickedness, but I felt it my duty to show you what happens to many girls who run away from their homes.” He said the last words as if he was passing a sentence.  
“ What…what is marriage? Why must you marry me for our lives to continue together?”  
“Because I have found myself to be in love with –“  
“Yes, I know and I know that there are different kinds of love, but why must you marry me? Can’t you have those feelings of love, but let your feelings of love toward me as a daughter triumph over them? Don’t marriages usually occur because both people are in love with one another and there is no other way to live together or because it will save a country for a union to occur? We already live together and I have no money that would make you wealthier, so why must we marry?”  
He stood away from Johanna but every part of his body wanted to fly to her and make her understand his lust, his power, and his need. He imagined walking towards her, grabbing her and putting her hand on his ever stiffening member and telling her, “This is why!” and then he would kiss her, holding her so that she couldn’t escape. Oh, how innocent and young she was. How infatuated he was. How bewitched. He felt he could not answer currently without exposing his rampant lust.  
And then she asked the question he had both dreaded and looked forward to answering. “What does it mean that a woman must lay with her husband? To fornicate?”  
The room was dreadfully still and quiet. Johanna was clearly waiting for him to answer, not realizing the gravity of the question she had asked. The Judge turned around and got a drink of water from the pitcher on her basin, looking at himself in the mirror as he did so. He finished the drink but did not move from the basin, holding onto it.  
“Have I asked something I shouldn’t have? I saw it in the Bible and I thought….”  
The Judge let a few more minutes of silence pass, giving himself time to cool his frantic and heated thoughts. He turned towards her, hands still gripping the sink. How to answer this question he wondered. What did other fathers say? What did lovers say?  
“Johanna,” he began hesitantly, not looking at her, “Yes, that is often mentioned in the Bible. Simply, it means when the wife gives herself – her physical body - to her husband so that she can please him…A decent, loving wife will lay in the bed next to her husband and let him…touch her and kiss her when and where ever he wishes to…And she will touch and kiss him where and when he desires her caresses.” Oh how difficult it was to speak these words with any moderation. He quickly turned around again and took a drink of cooling water. He felt that even if he were able to bathe in freezing water, this internal heat he felt at this moment would not be chilled.  
He turned to face Joanna whose visage was filled with worry and pain. She had folded her knees into her chest in an attempt to make herself smaller. “But we already hug and kiss and you’ve stopped doing that to me and allowing me to do that to you for the past few months. Why do we have to get married if we already do this? Why? Why?”  
Something in the manner in which she asked these questions, perhaps how quickly she asked them, told him she instinctually knew the difference between the kind of kiss and touch a father bestowed upon a daughter and the kind a lover covered the object of his desire with.  
“Johanna, if you love me, even if it is just as a father, you will be a grateful and virtuous girl and marry me to make me happy. You will see in time that this is the best possible solution and will be happy in the fact that you can allay my solitude and take care of me as I have taken care of you these past 15 years and, perhaps, yes, even share my feelings of ardor.”  
“No, no, no, I cannot...I cannot...I can-“ The Judge stopped her mouth with a kiss, holding tightly onto her, his hands gripping firmly onto her thin arms, his right arm resting between her knees, which tightened immediately. He used his tongue to open her mouth more and feel inside it. She was trying to push him away, but he was using all his strength and weight to trap her against the wall of the windowsill. He managed to trap one of her arms with his weight which allowed his free hand to explore the contours of her body. He squeezed and caressed the breast that was closest to the hand, and let his hand slip down her waist only to return to her chest. She wasn’t quiet during this time; she was making sounds that clearly exposed how much she detested this, how scared she was, but the Judge’s fervent kissing muffled the sound and, moreover, the sounds were making him hungry for something more.  
“Oh, Johanna, my darling, pretty girl, submit and marry me. I need you. Stop mocking me. Stop tempting me” he uttered between kisses. Her knees were squeezing his right arm and it hurt amazingly, but the Judge didn’t care. Eventually, Johanna grew tired and the Judge was able to relax his hold. He continued to feel her waist and breasts, as she sat there scared and worn-out. Finally, he felt as if he had had enough and took her face in his hands and kissed her as if they were lovers. He let Johanna’s face go and stood to look at her. She was limp from exhaustion and he sensed an air of defeat about her.  
The Judge took her hand and caressed it between his two palms, “Johanna, you will be a good girl and marry me and love me as a husband and I will love and protect you, my sweet rosebud, more than any of your prince charmings loved their princess brides.” He ran his handover her hair and kissed the top of her brow, taking in her smell. “You will be a lovely wife and bride to me in my solitude.”


	6. An Attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Johanna be able to withstand her own self hatred and fear?

Johanna had planned on having a sensible conversation with the Judge where she would express her fears and explain the impossibility of the situation. She hadn’t expected this. The way he had trapped her, making her arms ache, taking such liberties with her bre…She shuttered to think. She hated this new body she had. She had hated it since the moment it began changing and required her to wear a corset and made her bleed and made her grow hair in odd places. Oh and how she hated them, she looked down and saw them, sitting so peacefully and perky beneath her dress; she began scratching and tearing at them as if that would make any difference. It wasn’t fair. They seemed to mock her. She felt that they had ruined everything in her life. They were what made the Judge act so peculiarly and hurt her. She felt so filthy that she had to wash herself, but she didn’t want to see them with their ungodly whiteness and roundness and stupid tiny pink nipples sticking out. Nor did she wish to view the hair that grew from that secret place or her armpits or legs.   
She angrily poured in the prepared water into the bath and got in with all her clothes on, lying down, waiting for the hot water to cover her. She remembered how in Hamlet, Ophelia drowned herself, perhaps she could do that. Perhaps that was the solution. As the water covered her, she tried to hold herself down at the bottom and hold her breath, but she kept floating to the top. When she was finally able to hold herself under the hot water by pressing her arms against the sides of the rubs, she could not allow herself to drown. Johanna just sat in the bathtub with all her clothes on crying, wishing this was just a nightmare.


	7. A New Look

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Beadle has a suggestion for the affronted and confused Judge Turpin.
> 
> Some lines borrowed from the movie/play Sweeney Todd. No copyright infringement intended.

The Judge was not entirely proud of how he had handled the situation. He had wanted to act with more control and reserve. But how he was meant to do this when the object of his love was sitting there so lovely and vulnerable asking him questions about what he would do to her once they were married was inconceivable to him. Yes, he had acted improper, but what man hadn’t acted that way in the presence of a delightful, succulent, sweet morsel? No, he couldn’t think of her like that right now; he needed to calm himself down.  
The Beadle was coming for a visit. Perhaps he would know how to make a woman more keen. The Beadle was an odd man who often came up with illuminating and insightful solutions to problems, though the solutions he devised usually in some way personally benefited him.  
He heard a knock on the front door and came out of his study. The maid opened the door and Beadle walked in tipping his hat to the Judge while at the same time giving it and his coat to the maid. He too carried a cane. “Wait before you do that. I thought we’d go out.”  
“Yes, of course, my lord, whatever you would like.” The diminutively sized man gave a cloying smile to the maid as she gave him back his things. The Judge grabbed his own hat, coat, and cane and followed the Beadle out the door.  
“I must thank you, Judge, for that most brilliant sentence you passed on that young scamp the other day. I did not have time to properly thank you after court was dismissed. You left so suddenly.” The Beadle said as they walked down the street. The Judge glanced up at Johanna’s shuttered window.  
“Yes, well I had important business, Beadle.”  
“To be sure, to be sure. You’re an important and busy man, my lord, everyone knows that.”  
“Was that young lad guilty?”  
“Well, if he wasn’t guilty of that crime he certainly was of something else that warranted a hanging” the Beadle chuckled.  
“Aren’t we all, sir.” The Judge said absentmindedly.  
“Hmmm…my lord?”  
“Oh, nothing…No matter. Beadle, I have decided to unite myself with my ward in matrimony - ”  
“A most wise decision, my lord! What happiness this will bring to both you and your most charming Johanna!”  
“Yes…But you know, when I asked her, she did not seem very keen on the idea. She seemed…”  
“A touch hesitant, my lord? It is the way with all respectable ladies, my lord. And perhaps, my lord, perhaps…”  
“Perhaps what, Beadle?”  
“ Your lordship, I beg to remind you of how odd and fickle women, even those of the highest character, can be –“  
“Your point, Beadle?”  
“My lord, if you may allow me to say, you look a bit rough on the edges, perhaps in need of some self-care. A shave. A massage. New clothes.”  
“You think…” the Judge stopped and looked at himself in a storefront window. “Yes, I suppose I could be less hasty in the mornings with my appearance. Yes, stubble.” He felt his face, then quickly turned from the makeshift mirror as if afraid the Beadle would think him as vain and insecure as some young men and certainly most women. “I suppose you mean to suggest some place, Beadle.”  
“Yes, my lord, I do know of a place that can fix you up with a most respectable wardrobe and haircut in the newer fashions.” The Beadle told of him of the place, they finished discussing other business, and the two departed ways. Yes, he would go there now.  
The place the Beadle suggested was indeed respectable. He had worried it would be filled with flamboyant men wearing garish costumes in the newest fashions who would turn him into preening peacock. No, these men were somber and respectful as he told them he wished for a shave and a haircut, though not one of those newer ones that he saw all the clerks wearing. Just a simple, refined one. The barber’s was adjoined to a tailor’s. What a brilliant and prudent idea, the Judge thought. He wondered how the Beadle would get commendation for his going here. As the barber applied the lather, the Judge could not help but think of Johanna’s shock when she saw the well groomed him. He would appear younger and more dapper. She was not a fickle girl, but then again she was a woman so there was some fickleness ingrained in her person, he supposed.  
After his shave and haircut, the Judge transitioned to the tailors. He noticed they had many of the finest fabrics and the cuts were newer, but not in the faddish way. In the presence of these he felt ashamed of his old suit. He wore robes at the courthouse and so he had no need to worry about the clothes underneath them (just as he had no need to worry about his hair, as long as it wasn’t too unruly, because he wore a wig while there). And, if he wasn’t at the courthouse, he was probably at home. He had rarely gone to parties filled with fashionable people when he was a young man, though of course to become a judge, you had to go to some. And now he very rarely ever went to those things and he certainly never went to balls.  
They were fitting him for a newer style suit when it hit him that he would need a wedding suit. He had them fit him for that too. He said he would make it worth their while if they could have the first suit ready by tomorrow and the second ready by the end of the week. He thanked him for their service and promised to come back tomorrow to retrieve his new wardrobe.  
The Judge walked home as if on air. He felt a difference in himself with this new haircut and shave. He decided that he wouldn’t reveal his physical changes to Johanna until he also had the new suit, but that he would spy on her to see what she was doing.  
The Judge peered into her room. She was in her nightgown, in front of the fire, placing the things she had been wearing that afternoon before the fire place. They looked entirely soaked and Johanna’s hair was very wet. He realized that had he returned home maybe 20 minutes before, he could have seen her change…No, there would be time to see her in the nude, getting out of the bath for an eternity. Why were her clothes so wet though, had she worn them in the bath? She was now drying her hair by the fire, strand by strand. Was there ever a lovelier sight? The Judge asked himself. He imagined how soon she would get out of a bath and come to sit on his lap in front of the fireplace; how he would kiss and talk to her, taking in her fresh scent, while she combed her hair, smiling.  
He went down to his chambers and ate his supper, continually going to the mirror to look at his improved appearance. He slept better that night than he had in months with the knowledge that soon he wouldn’t be alone in his bed.


	8. Hopelessness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna begins admitting to herself.

Johanna had a terrible dream that night that made her wake after only a few hours sleep. She dreamed of the Judge coming into her room while she slept and touching and kissing her everywhere, even on that secret part. She got up and placed a chair in front of the door so that the door could not be opened by anyone from the outside who had a key. Yes, the Judge would be furious she did this but he is already angry with me, she reasoned.  
She lay in her bed wondering if it wasn’t just better to give in. Wasn’t it futile to keep refusing him? This was the beginning of the 6th day. She had 8 more days to go. 8 more days of this? And then what? A lifetime spent in this prison of a house letting – no liking or pretending to like – the new ways the Judge touched her? Or a lifetime spent on the streets with no money or friends or comforts, ending in the slums of the city in its putrid air and sinister atmosphere. She no longer thought the Judge would change his mind; he firmly wanted and expected this. There had been few times she had been able to convince her father to think differently.


	9. A Childhood Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There had been few times she had been able to convince her father to think differently....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jo the Crossing Sweep from Bleak House has an appearance.  
> A memory of Johanna's from when she was seven.

Once, when Johanna was seven, the Judge was set upon banning her from playing in that little outside corridor between their house and the next house over because he had caught her talking to a little boy through the wooden fence that towered over even the Judge.  
It all began one day when she had been calling to an orange striped cat that was pacing on the fence, trying to get it to come down so that she could pet it when she heard a little boy’s voice say, “You’re doing it wrong.”  
She had been startled and it took her a minute to respond. There was a tiny hole in the fence that the boy was speaking through.  
__“What? Who’s there?”  
“It’s just me, Jo, the cross sweeping boy. And you’re calling the cat wrong. Don’t you know you should get some milk out for it and it’ll come down. Or give it fish, if you have any.”  
“Oh, thank you. Pardon, what is a cross sweeping boy”  
“What is a cross- Do you know anything or are you as stupid as that cat?”  
“I am not stupid! I know how to read and write in English and am learning French.”  
“Well then how do you not know what I am or how to call a cat? Hmm…? Anyone with any sense would know these things. A lot of good that French’s gonna do you with us living in London.”  
“Well, I just, I am not allowed out…very often.” She responded pitiably. She felt stupid, who cared if she knew English and French? She didn’t know how to get this cat off the ledge or what it meant to be a cross something or other.  
“Even my three year old cousin knows how to call cats. How old are you? I’m eight.”  
“I’m eight, too” she lied.  
“No you’re not. What are you five?”  
“No, I’m seven!”  
“So you did lie?” Johanna bit her lip and felt bad, lying was a sin and furthermore this boy was making her feel stupid, yet, she still wanted to talk to him.  
“Listen,” he said authoritatively, “get a bowl of milk, put it by the fence, back away and the cat will come down. If that doesn’t work, try it with fish. Bye”  
“Wait,” but it was too late, he had left the fence. Johanna hurried into the kitchen and got a small bowl of milk; no one seemed to notice her. She did what the boy said and finally the cat did come down. She approached it as it drank the milk, its green eyes carefully watching her as its pink tongue darted in and out of its mouth and its striped tail swished back and forth. Johanna approached it slowly, taking a few steps forward, then sitting down again for a minute or so. Eventually the cat finished the milk and she was not even close enough to touch it by reaching out her hand she realized. The cat tipped over the bowl as if to look for more food and Johanna stretched out her hand toward, palm open. The cat timidly approached her, looking ready to leap at a moment’s notice. He smelled her hand and licked it and she petted its orange head amazed she was getting to do this.  
But just as suddenly as it began, it ended. Her father came home and the front door slammed and the cat jumped up and scaled the walls to the other side, leaving Johanna sitting by herself in the alleyway. She was not happy about this, she had wanted more time to pet the cat, but maybe he would come back and maybe that boy would come back, she thought even more excitedly.  
She would tell her father how he had helped her and…No she couldn’t do that. It would have to be a secret. She didn’t have any real secrets from him. She sometimes made up some to tell her dolls or made pretend that her feelings were secret, but nothing of actual consequence had ever happened to her.  
Now she had one; she felt guilty and elated at the same time. Could she keep it? Yes, of course, she thought. She’d even keep it from her dolls. She began walking in and remembered the bowl. She took and hid it in the kitchen as she went into the dayroom where her father would be having tea.  
Johanna soon noticed that Jo came to the fence every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. She made a point of being there so that she could talk to him. The cat also visited frequently and she had more contact with it, bestowing it with the name “Obadiah.” Joe thought this was a silly name for a cat, but only teased her about it for a short time. He told her about all his brothers and sisters and about how his father was a chimney sweep and was drunk all the time. This sounded horrible to her, but Jo just laughed at it saying his father told the best stories when he’d had too many spirits. He related some of them; some Johanna did find amusing, while others she found distressing, but laughed for the sake of Jo.  
Johanna could sense that she was always much more excited about seeing him than he was of seeing her, but she didn’t care. She told him about the stories she had read in the little fairy tale books and was surprised he didn’t know them. The story of Jack and the Giant was his favorite because he said he imagined himself stealing gold from some stupid, rich giant.  
This went on for months and Johanna was proud of how she had kept their meetings a secret. She even gave Jo food. She was amazed when she had heard him say he had never had a banana and she had thrown one over the gate for him. She did this with Turkish delight, too. Jo was always very thankful when she did this and never asked for more.  
And then one-day it ended. Her father came home early, but was walking from a different direction when he saw Jo leaning against the wooden gate talking to it, facing away from him. Probably talking to one of the maids, he thought. Turpin saw the boy was chewing on a piece of black licorice, like the type the Judge kept in the house. And so the street rat was also successfully purloining food, he thought with distaste. He would cane him and fire the maid. He approached the riff-raff quietly, raising his weapon, about to cane the boy’s knees when he heard him say to the fence “Johanna, this isn’t really a rat’s tail, is it?” The Judge’s heart stopped. He then heard Johanna’s little laugh from the other side of the fence, “No.” “Johanna, this better not be an actual rat’s tail!” The Judge wanted to cane the boy on the head and kill him. He could still hear Johanna laughing on the other side of the fence. The Judge grabbed the back of the boy’s collar and said in his most ominous tone, “And you had better not be speaking to my ward.” Johanna’s laughter stopped.  
The boy looked at the Judge frightened. “I…I meant no harm, gov.”  
“What you meant or didn’t mean by conversing with my ward and addressing her in such a manner and stealing our food” he said grabbing the licorice from him and tossing it into the street, “is completely immaterial to me. You,” he said and raised his cane to the boy’s head as he grabbed the front of the boy’s coat, “mark me, will not pollute this street with your presence again. And, if you do, you will answer to this,” he warned as he dug the cane into the boys skull. “Mark me, boy.”  
“Yes, yes, of course, gov...sir…my lord, you’ll never see me again.” The boy ran off down the street. The Judge looked through the hole in the fence to see Johanna but she wasn’t there.  
He marched to the house unsure of what he would do when he found Johanna. As far as he knew, she had never acted like this. She had never kept secrets, other than those concerning her feelings, from him.  
As he opened the door and began giving the maid his hat and coat, he felt a rush of wind go past him. The maid exclaimed, “Miss Johanna!” The Judge turned around and walked outside to see Johanna running down one side of the sidewalk yelling, “Jo?!?” The Judge collectedly walked outside the gate towards her, hiding the anger he felt bubbling up in him, ready to pick her up and bring her back inside for a whipping, but as soon as he neared her and reached out his arm, she turned around and without even noticing him started running in the other direction continuing her search call. The Judge was astonished and now seething with anger. People were beginning to look at her, he could tell, and she had ignored and disobeyed several of his rules. The Judge caught her at the end of the street as she had stopped and was looking around confused and disheartened. He grabbed her arm and she looked up at him and shook him away.  
“Johanna,” he threatened in a low tone. She renewed her search for the boy calling out his name. The Judge picked her up, put her over his shoulder, which wasn’t an easy thing to do considering how she was trying to escape from him. She continued to call the boy’s name until they got inside the house.  
The Judge let her down in his study after he closed and locked the door. She ran to it to try to open it yelling, “I hate you” over and over again.  
On the highest shelf of the bookcase was what the Judge was searching for: a switch. It had been made long ago and had been used before on someone else, but it would do the job, he knew. He set up a stool for him to sit on while he switched her. “Johanna, come here.” He repeated his demand again, but she just continued to struggle with the door.  
To his surprise, when he’d gone to retrieve her, she bit his hand and to her surprise he slapped her face. That made her release the door. He dragged her to the stool, sat down and drew her across his lap. She had never been spanked or switched before, but she knew that something bad was about to happen. The Judge held her struggling body down as he gave her the first switch. She begged him to stop. Her begging turned into hatred for him once again and she said how she’d rather have Jo’s poor drunken father as a guardian than him. Then the pleas for mercy began again. The Judge remained silent throughout all of this.  
It wasn’t until Johanna stopped saying anything and struggling that the lashings ceased. He threw the switch across the room, a bead of sweat trickling down his face. Johanna lifted herself wearily from his legs, she tried to stand up but fell down between them resting her head on his leg, and wrapping her arms tightly around it, crying quietly. The Judge had forgotten who he was beating, channeling his prefect days when beating boys for any reason was encouraged and his current ones when he sentenced anyone he could to some painful punishment. Perhaps he had been too harsh with the switch he thought. He began smoothing Johanna’s pretty hair to soothe her.  
After she had calmed down a little, she asked softly, almost as if speaking to the floor, “Why can’t I have any friends?”  
“That boy,” he said distastefully, “was not your friend. What have I told you about street boys and men: they only want to use you and harm you. That boy was only talking to you to acquire food from you. He was probably also planning on finding out how he and his wretched friends could steal from the house.”  
Johanna rubbed her face against the Judge’s calf, “He was my friend and I offered him the banana and the Turkish delight and the licorice just a few weeks ago. He never asked for it.” Her crying increased again. Weeks? The Judge thought. He had suspected that maybe her talking to him had gone on for a few days, but weeks?  
“Johanna, how long have you been acquainted with that boy?” She hid further into his leg. “Johanna?”  
“Since a few days before you bought me that pink ribbon for my hair.” She mumbled. The Judge calculated. That was three months ago. She had kept a secret from him for three months? For three months she had been allowing this boy to pollute her mind. “But I only saw him on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.” She said as if this made the whole problem non-existent. The Judge wanted to beat her more, to make her understand that she was his ward and he was not to be disobeyed. But then he looked down at her, so petite and fragile. He had done her enough harm already between a slap and a switching surely. He continued to pet her head, unsure of what he should do next.  
“How did you become acquainted with this boy?”  
“He heard me trying to get Obadiah down from the fence and told me I was doing it wrong. He called me stupid for not knowing what a cross-sweeper was or how to call a cat. And then he told me how to get Obadiah by using a bowl of milk. He said I might have to use fish, but I haven’t had to yet. Then he started visiting me more often and he told me about his family and I told him those fairy stories and he told me more about cats and then I told him about my favorite foods, most of which he’d never had and I threw them over the wall and that took mea really long time to do because the wall is so high and he would always be very thankful for it and wouldn’t ask for more and then he would leave and I felt bad for not telling you. I wanted to tell you the minute I met him and Obadiah, father, but I knew you’d be angry and…and…” her words finally began slowing down from the alarming pace she had been speaking in “and I just wanted someone to talk to who was real and wasn’t old. I’m sorry.”  
The Judge looked down. She looked so tragic half sitting, half standing because of her wounds, face tear stained.  
“Johanna, I will accept that you feel sorry for lying to me, but I will not accept a full apology from you until you realize that this boy was only trying to use you.”  
“But father”  
“No, not until then. Until you admit this, you will be confined to your room and will not be allowed to speak to anyone or have anything besides water and bread.” He went to the door, called in one of the maids and had her take Johanna up to her room and tend to her wounds. The Judge went up about 30 minutes later to see Johanna laying on her stomach in her nightgown, staring at the ground. He stood in the doorway, “Do you repent? Will you admit that your father is right?”She hid her face into the bed. “Very well” as he began to close the door.  
“Father, I don’t hate you.” She cried out feebly.  
“Thank you, Johanna.” He said as he closed and locked the door.  
The next day Johanna admitted that the Judge was probably right and the little boy only wanted the things she gave him. After all, before that, he made fun of her, and when she gave him those gifts, he began being nicer to her. The Judge held her as she cried about it, promising she wouldn’t do anything like what she had done again and that she would be a good girl, etc. The Judge couldn’t believe how much crying could come from a child. Johanna never cried when she hurt herself and she had been a happy baby, but if she heard a sad tale or felt scared, she would cry more tears than he thought a child of her size capable of. The Judge then said he was banning her from going out into the alleyway unattended. For a while, she put up no fight against this. She didn’t really want to be out there anymore, but as her heart healed from her betrayal, she yearned for the small amount of freedom the alleyway provided her with and there was no one who had time to take her. Eventually she convinced her father to let her go out there alone on the promise that she wouldn’t go near the gate. She kept this promise.  
Yes, that had been one of the few times her father had ever switched her and she had ever been able to convince him against his will. But convincing him against this seemed hopeless. She didn’t mind the idea of taking care of him as her father for the rest of her life, but being his wife? And in truth it made her sad because she thought she would be released from this house eventually.


	10. Exchanging Promises (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna finally reaches a decision, but not without conditions.

The Judge went to court the next morning, but couldn’t concentrate on the case. Luckily, the Beadle had already told him of this man’s guilt and the Judge sentenced him to 5 years. The Beadle approached him and congratulated him on his appearance.  
“And did the young Johanna find herself unable to refuse you, my lord, her fickle concerns allayed?”  
“I have not yet shown her my new self. I have ordered a new suit and am on my way to pick it up now. Come with me, Beadle.”  
“Of course, your grace. And may I say, what a fine idea to present yourself to her in your best attire.”  
“hmm.” The Judge murmured. Sometimes, the Beadle could be too laudatory. They made their way to the barber-tailor and had the suit fitted. The Judge was quite pleased with his choice of fabric and cut and was anticipating Johanna’s reaction to his finery.  
The Beadle walked home with him and the two shared some of Turpin’s fine brandy. The Judge found he needed the brandy to calm his nerves. During his walk home, he had become less confident in the ability of a shave and clothes to woo over his ward. After two drinks, with regained confidence, he left the Beadle in his study and entered Johanna’s bedroom. She was lying on top of her nicely made bed in one of her simpler dresses without a corset, her body turned away from the door. She did not turn to acknowledge him, she just said, “The Beadle is with you, father?”  
“Yes.” He sat on the edge of her bed and put a hand on her foot, which she quickly withdrew. She looked like an injured animal.  
“You aren’t going to change your mind are you?”  
“No, I am not a man who is accustomed to changing his mind, am I, Johanna.”  
To his displeasure she just continued to stare forward. Why wouldn’t he look at him and his new appearance?  
“I love you and I don’t want to hurt you and I wish we could just continue as we were, but I know that because of my hateful and stupid and immoral…..” he saw that she was looking down at her own chest in true abhorrence. She quickly crossed her arms across her chest. She continued in a more moderate tone, “because I have gotten older, we cannot.” He could hear her voice beginning to waver. What did this mean? “I want to know if you would ever consider…What do you think of the park, father? Hyde Park?” she asked quickly and turned to look at his face. What was this question she had asked him? Was she ill? She looked at him imploring him for an answer.  
“Hyde Park is a place where supposedly respectable people go to waste away their hours. Affairs happen there. Lower class people try to pretend they are something there while the higher classes preen about.”  
She turned over again, facing the wall. She had not taken notice of his new appearance yet. “Then you would not let me walk there or paint there, would you?” She seemed to answer her own question. “Would you ever let me go the theatre and ballet and music hall if I promised to behave and to never talk to anyone but you?”  
Suddenly, he realized what she was asking. “You mean if you became my wife, would I let you go to these places with me?” She gave a painful yes. The Judge stopped for a moment. Yes, he wanted her to stay away from those windows and reside in the house forever and live only for him and have the world never touch her, but could he let her go to those places with him? He would get to show her off, he thought, as he sat there beside her in their box, but there would always be some young man ready to whisk her away from him. Then again, she’d be with him and when they got home they would…The Judge thought a few minutes more. He could lie to her and say yes, after all she had no Bible for him to swear on. “Yes, of course, I would my little rosebud, if you agreed to act properly.”  
She sat up in bed and looked at him seriously. “Would you really? Would you swear it.” And she got her Bible off her bedside table offering it to him to swear on. He had taught her well, he thought. He realized she had not said how many times he needed to take her or how often. He took the Bible and swore that he would take her to the theatre, ballet, and music hall, if she was able to behave herself.  
“And now, Johanna, don’t you have something you wish to promise me?” he moved closer to her on the bed  
She seemed in pain. “Yes.”  
“Yes, what?”  
“Yes, I will marry you.”  
The Judge lay near her, spooning her as he lifted his head and kissed her mouth and had one hand exploring her breasts. “Johanna...mmm…I will protect you and love you, my rosebud.” She was tense but she did not try to stop him or pull away from him. As he kissed her the Judge reached into his pockets and found the ring, slipping it onto her finger. “We will marry in 2 days.”  
“But you said I had a whole fortnight to…no, it doesn’t matter.” She looked at the ring for only a second. The Judge wanted to remain there beside her for the rest of the night, but he remembered the Beadle was downstairs and, besides, she wasn’t yet his wife.


	11. Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Judge makes ready for his nuptials.

The Beadle arranged the church service for the Judge, as well as the small repast afterwards at the Beadle’s house that was to preclude the Judge and Johanna’s honeymoon. The Judge had arranged the honeymoon himself; his family owned a small cottage in Kent that had been largely unused for the past 20 years, but the Judge visited it sometimes to see how the property was kept up. He bribed the other judges to take his cases for over a week. 

Of course, there still remained the problem with the staff. The Judge was aware that his servants knew why Johanna had been so troubled and confined to her bedroom this past week, but he would not bother to tell them her answer until after they came home as husband and wife. On the morning of the wedding he would tell them that he and Johanna would be gone for a few days and have someone pack her suitcase with the necessary things then. 

The Judge only visited with Johanna once more before the wedding. He told a maid to bring her down to his study on the eve of the wedding. He closed the door and had her sit next to him as he wrapped his arms around her and asked how her day was. “Yes, it was fine, father.” She was trying to hide how scared she was; trying to look at the situation in a positive light. Trying not to betray how distasteful she found it.

“Johanna, I do not think it is appropriate for you to call me ‘father’ anymore. You will call me dearest or some other term of endearment that your pretty mind concocts. And tomorrow, you will wear your white muslin dress.”’ He held her and kissed her for a while longer until he let her go and allowed her to go to bed.


	12. The Exchange of Vows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The happy day is finally here? Will Johanna go through with it?

The young lady went upstairs, but did not sleep. She did not cry either. As if she were moving house, Johanna went through the things in the two trunks under her bed. There were the five dolls the Judge had bought her over the years that had served as her friends. There was the assortment of ribbons and lace and pretty cards. The Judge had brought home all these things for her. She looked over at her bookshelf and saw all the books that the Judge had given her to read to him or him to her. 

“See,” she told herself “you’re being selfish. He has been nothing but kind to you. More kind than your own parents would have ever been. You can make him happy and repay him back for keeping you safe from that place out there, that place beyond the window…Was it not you that made him unhappy and suffer?” she accused herself angrily. 

She walked over to the mirror and looked at her body. It would no longer be hers after tomorrow. It had barely been hers tonight as he passed his hands over her breasts and thighs, a slight moaning coming from his throat. She moved around her room the whole night convincing herself again and again of the Judge’s near infallibility and how she would make him happy. At dawn, she attired herself in her white muslin gown and combed her hair down to her waist. She sat and stared at herself in the mirror until she heard a knock at the door and the maid entered bringing in her breakfast. She didn’t even try to eat any of it, she just sat at her dressing table perfectly still. Finally, the maid came up again and said the Beadle was downstairs waiting for her. She was surprised; she thought she would be riding with her father, her intended. 

“He has gone on ahead, Miss Johanna. Our dear friend has blessed me with the task of accompanying you to the church. May I say that you look most becoming in that dress, my lady.” He said as they entered the cab. The Beadle continued talking, but Johanna paid no attention. She was trying not to think at all and just look at all the passing sights through the carriage window. Much sooner than she thought it should have, the cab stopped in front of the church. She was forgetting all the reasons she had told herself that this was the right thing to do, yet still her legs moved up the steps. At the entryway the Beadle introduced her to some woman who would act as the second witness. 

The woman quickly went into the church and the Beadle offered his arm to Johanna, “Our lordship has also given me the task of walking the lovely young bride down the aisle.” 

Johanna took his arm and went into the church. She could see the Judge at the altar and she looked toward the ground thinking that if she looked up she would die. She began saying a prayer. She didn’t pray much, except that ritual prayer before sleep, but she found she needed the strength. They reached the altar and she stood across from the Judge, but did not look into his face; she stared down at his shoes. Finally, the priest began instructing her on what to say and she repeated mechanically in a very soft voice. She could feel the Judge looking down at her and breathing irregularly and heavily. They kissed and Johanna took his arm and followed him out of the church.

Could it be that simple, she pondered.


	13. Repast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter before the couple's honeymoon begins

Upon exiting the church, the rain began pouring down. The Judge hurried his new bride into a hansom cab and off they went. 

Allowing the eagerness he’d been forced to quell, the Judge turned his attention to Johanna. Kissing her face and holding her limp body against his. She felt his hands move everywhere, but she felt herself in a daze. The cab stopped again and she found herself in a place where she had never been. 

“Where are we, father?”

“The Beadle’s house for repast. And it’s dearest, remember?”

The Beadle appeared from another carriage and welcomed them to his home. The mysterious woman was gone. They entered the drab looking building and went to the dining room, the men talking about something judicial. 

Johanna sat down. She wasn’t hungry, but she ate what the Judge put on her plate. She didn’t feel able to concentrate on anything. Finally, the Judge stood up and indicated to her that it was time to leave. She got into yet another cab with him expecting him to make love to her all the way home.


	14. The Wedding Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps the Judge learned something from Lucy Barker's disappearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost to a smutty bit. I promise.

The newlyweds sat together in the hansom, his arms placed securely about her. The young bride tried to hide her face in his chest as when she was a little girl; it was the only thing that made sense to her at that moment. She took in that familiar scent of his cigars and personhood. But there was a different smell mingled in with it. 

“You smell different” Johanna commented unexpectedly.

“Do I? It must be that cologne the barber gave me…Do you dislike it?”

“No, it’s just different” and she placed her face back into his chest.

It was the first time since he had proposed to her that the Judge had begun to feel bad about his decision to marry her. He thought of the ways he had felt her body several times already. He decided that he would stifle his lust for the duration of the carriage ride to Kent and would just let Johanna rest beside him.   
She soon fell asleep and the Judge held her. Tonight, he told himself, he wouldn’t force her to do anything she didn’t want to do. He had done those things to more than one woman and saw how it made them flee or go insane; he would gain a power over them, but the power would soon fade. True, he had cajoled her into this marriage, he told himself, but he would not force himself on her, though he had an ardent wish to. She could fear him through some other means. He was sure she would understand that she needed to submit to him tonight.

Johanna was still asleep when they reached the cottage and he had to wake her. She was so confused about where they were but he soon explained about the cottage and that it was their honeymoon spot. The Judge took their few bags and with Johanna entered the house, the carriage driving off. She followed him into the kitchen where he lit the fire. The cupboards were stocked with groceries just as he had requested the groundskeeper to do. He saw her looking at the various odds and ends on the mantelpiece and on the walls. She remained quiet as the Judge said he would take their bags to their room. He came back down the stairs to see her looking out the kitchen window at the immense amount of green and rain.

“Come away from the window, Johanna.”She turned towards him and approached him. “Come. The living room is just through here.” He took her hand and led her there. He sat her down on the couch facing the fireplace and lit the fire and then sat next to her. He took her folded hands in his palms and leaned back, stroking them. Johanna sank into the couch, as well.

“What is it you are thinking about, Johanna?”

“Nothing…Why did you never take me here when I was a child?”

“It was too hard to leave the city and my job. Do you like it?” She nodded.

They sat for a long time in silence, as the Judge stroked her hands between his, thinking of how her virgin palms were going to cool the fiery demon of lust inside him.

“Shall I make the tea, fa- dearest?” she asked after a long time.

She went into the kitchen and the Judge stirred the fire, looking into the kitchen from there. He watched her as she found the teapot and began boiling the water and then searched for the tea cups. Every movement she made was elegant, but simple. Not even the best male servant would make tea so prettily as a truly beautiful woman, he thought. She soon came in with the tea and poured it out for him, not actually looking at him. She sat on the floor in front of the fire, removed from him. She had always been the more talkative one, even when she became more ladylike. Always interested in something or wanting to ask him some ethical or philosophical ponder. When she was little, he had been shocked by her persistence in talking to him; he had taught her to wait patiently to say something to him and sit like a little lady, but that hadn’t affected the way she talked to him willingly and excitedly and waited for his replies which were always short in length and given in a moderate or authoritative tone. Now, they sat and drank their tea in silence.


	15. The Wedding Night (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will the Judge be able to keep the promise he made to himself?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some mild smut. Rape, non-con elements

The clock struck 10 and Johanna did not move or pretend to notice the lateness of the hour. She had silently taken the tea things in to be cleaned over an hour ago and had then resumed her former position on the floor. She was dreading the time when the Judge would tell her to go up to their room. She cycled between this immense feeling of dread and an overwhelming amount of numbness. She began to nod off in front of the fire. When she opened her eyes next, the fire had been put out and she suddenly felt the large hands of the Judge on her shoulders. 

“Come, Johanna.” She stood up and dared not to look him in the face. He led the way up to their room and let her enter first. She saw before her a big four poster bed and she realized how real this was. There was no turning back was there? Could she beg him? Could she runaway from him? She had heard him lock the door. She was trapped.

“I laid out your things for you, Johanna” his voice purred behind her. She saw them on the bed and picked them up tentatively. Was she supposed to change in front of him? She saw there was a lavatory and she made her way to it, closing the door – there was no lock on it. The Judge had made some protestation but she did not care. She was anxious and fumbled with her buttons and corset and petticoat in the dark. She grabbed her night gown and slipped it on. She never realized how short it was or how it showed her nipples and clung to her body until now. She again wanted rip off these additions to her body. If the room had had a lock or a chair, she could stay in here all night and there would be nothing the Judge could do about it, save break down the door. But without either there would be no point in trying to hide in here. She collected her clothes and entered the bedroom. 

The Judge stood by the bed in his trousers with his shirt off. He was scanning her up and down, but soon averted his eyes and began removing his clothes again. She placed her clothes neatly on a chair near the lit fireplace. Suddenly, she felt hands on her hips and bottom and looked down to see the Judge kneeling on the floor below her, his hands bringing her hips forward and his face glued to the spot between her thighs.

“Oh, Johanna, oh forgive me. But you must deliver me from the devil that has taken me. Oh your virgin hands must save me, my sweet rosebud. I swore to myself that I would not take you by force. You must give yourself to me.”

The Judge sounded as if he were in the throws of a fever. Johanna did not know what to do and so she let him kneel there nuzzling his head against her stomach and private place and molding her bottom with his hands. The Judge shifted a hand underneath her nightgown and placed it in her growth of hair. Johanna pushed him away and stumbled backwards falling into the chair. 

She fell back with her legs open. The Judge saw this and the reserve he had mustered disappeared. He pounced at her, not like a cat going after a piece of string, but like a lion attacking a gazelle. He was holding her against the chair by her arms, his knee keeping her legs apart. He knelt, letting go of arms and forcibly opening her legs more, suddenly sticking his face between her thighs, underneath her night gown. His hands traveled up her naked body and held her arms firmly again. The light was coming through her thin nightgown. He could smell her sweetness and feel her hairs tickle his face. His eyes traveled upward and saw her breasts in the nude for the first time. He returned to burying his face in her cunt. Taking note of how soft the curly light brown hair was. He could feel that Johanna was trying to get him away from her, but was failing. Could anything compete with this demon inside him?

“Quiet, Johanna! Remember, I am your husband! I will not be controlled by you.” He barked. She stopped moving and he removed his hands from her arms, down her body to her cunt. He opened the delicate lips of it. Johanna began uttering the word, “No.” He placed his tongue at where her rosebud was, as yet, unopened, he thought pleasantly, and began licking. His hands went up to her breasts and massaged them. She slowly began to relax as he continued to mold her breasts and draw concentric circles on them with his fingers. He was sad to note that he had only been able to draw a little of her rosebud out with his tickling and that she too had not been driven into the throws of passion. 

After removing himself from underneath her nightgown, the new groom examined his bride’s face. There was a somewhat confused and shamed look upon its delicate features. He remembered his earlier promise to himself, got up, dressed down to his knickers and slid into bed. He was a magistrate of the law, he thought. An upholder of the peace. Surely he could hold back his lust for his wife for a night. Johanna could decide if she wanted to sleep next to him.


	16. A Wedding's Slumber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Might Johanna take pleasure in her husband's "affections."

Johanna sat in that chair for a long time, looking over at the figure of the Judge who was now asleep and lightly snoring. The fire was going down and she was getting cold. He looked like he was really asleep, prompting her to carefully get into the bed. The Judge did not stir. She lay there wondering about what had happened. The attack upon her had been violent, but once she had stopped resisting, his touch had almost been relaxing and loving. She mused on these ideas as she fell into a light sleep.


	17. A Loss of Innocence (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Judge finally takes what's "his."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: anal sex, non-con

When the Judge awoke the next morning and remembered where he was, he had the horrible realization Johanna wasn’t there. She wasn’t lying next to him in bed or sitting in the chair; the door to the lavatory was open as was the door to the…He got up quickly and peered down the staircase. She wasn’t in sight. He ran down the stairs two steps at a time. She couldn’t have left him. He peered into the living room and kitchen and could find nothing. He opened the front door and started to go around the house when he saw her picking flowers from the flowerbed. She was fully dressed, which made the Judge more keenly aware that he wasn’t. He cleared his throat.

“Father, I” she averted her eyes from his almost naked form.

He grabbed her hand and marched her into the house.

“I have been lenient with you. Too lenient. Any other newly married man would have whipped you for your insolence last night. You have drawn out a passion in me that I have tried to quench, but cannot and now you refuse as my wife to subdue it!”

“I don’t understand what I am supposed to do!” she cried.

He furiously led her up the stairs. He threw her into the room and locked the door. With deep-seated aggression, he pushed her onto the bed and got on top of her, straddling her. He smothered her with kisses and tore her simple dress till her breasts were exposed to him. He dug his face against them and kissed them and sucked them to his heart’s content. He then violently turned her over. Her pleas had no effect on him. The Judge lifted her dress and forced her knickers down exposing her bottom. He quickly took his own down and forced Johanna to lift her hips up to him. He licked his free hand and wetted the place. He mounted her pushing her head more into the bed with one hand and opening her cheeks with the other.

It hurt more than expected at first because of the lack of lubrication; he had brought a bottle of cold cream with him for this purpose, but he hadn’t had time to find it. He removed his hand from her head and used both his hands to move her hips in motion with him. It felt amazing to finally have her underneath him and have his desire answered. His thrusts became less forceful and more rhythmic until the end. 

When he finally finished, he kneeled on the bed, exhausted. Johanna remained in front of him and he ran his fingers along her spine. He felt vindicated. She had humiliated him with her initial refusal of him and then with her conditional agreement and finally with her insubordinate behavior yesterday. He was master over her without question. He would not let his first love for her as a daughter blind his new love for her as his wife.


	18. Afterwards

After finishing in a whirl of black and red, the Judge kneeled on the bed, exhausted. Johanna remained in front of him, trembling.

With a clammy hand, he ran his fingers along her spine. He felt vindicated. She had humiliated him with her initial refusal of him and then with her conditional agreement and finally with her insubordinate behavior yesterday. He was master over her without question. He would not let his first love for her as a daughter blind his new love for her as his wife.

His thoughts briefly turned to Johanna's state of being. What was she thinking, he wondered. His own hopes were split. For her to be repentant and humiliated was what he mainly longed for. However, there was a small voice inside of him that was also born of pride that wished for her to love him and what he did with her in the bedroom.

The Judge pushed these thoughts from his mind. He got up from the bed and went and cleaned himself off. With no shame, he strode around the room completely naked until he found his robe. Johanna was made to sit up and he took her hand, guiding her downstairs to the kitchen where he grabbed the pail of cold water resting next to the sink and poured it on top of the confused maiden’s head to wake her from her stupor. Underneath his secure grasp, he could feel her trying to get away from him. When the water was gone, his grip loosened and she stepped back.


	19. A Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna thinks upon what has just happened and resolves to change her attitude toward her new husband.

She was cold and in pain. What had just happened? It had hurt more than anything he had done previously. And then she had felt herself covered in something sticky. That must have been what was meant by fornicating and lying with one’s husband. While the Judge was “fornicating” with her, she had reminded herself of those passages she had seen in the Bible about marriage and how the wife’s body belonged to the husband and vice versa, but it was the wife’s duty to submit. Her father wasn’t prone to physical violence, except when something very bad and immoral was done. She thought back to how she had tried to fight him off last night and went into the other room to change and refused to follow him to bed until he was sound asleep and woke up early because she didn’t want him to touch her while she slept. 

Standing here, in the kitchen, she realized that she had made him act like this, like a monster. She had tempted him (unknowingly yes) just as Eve had Adam. If there was evilness in men, then perhaps a different sort was present in women, too. It wasn’t his fault that he had behaved so uncharacteristically; she would make amends and show him that she did love him, even though it was just as a father. She looked down at what she was wearing and was ashamed; her dress was ruined and her breasts were exposed and now she was dripping wet.

“Father, would you allow me to go up and change into another dress please?” He agreed. Johanna used water that was in a basin to wash; the house did not having running water, so she could not take a bath. 

While sponging herself, Johanna remembered how when she was about 8 or 9 she had begun fantasizing about marrying a prince, the Rapunzel one especially. He would rescue her from her room by climbing up her hair and they would ride on his horse together throughout London, throughout all of England, even the world. As she got older, the dream became more realistic: a young, handsome man would rescue her using the window, but probably not by using her hair as a ladder, and they would steal away from London to some place like Paris where they would be happy together and kiss; they would go to the theatre and concerts and would take walks everywhere. While she had always wanted to explore the streets of London, her father’s horror stories of it made her fantasize about a different, more ideal city where she would never be bored and kept locked up. The kissing and handholding between her rescuer and her became more of the center focus as the years went by. She loved the idea of walking down the street arm in arm past other people who might comment on how happy they looked, just as she commented – to an empty room – on seemingly happy people who walked by her window. These fantasies, however, always had a sour taste to them because they meant defying her father and, more importantly, hurting his feelings. When she actually thought about her father coming into her bedroom and not finding her there, her heart broke and she felt wicked. If she was terribly angry with him, then, yes, the thought of him being confused about where she had possibly gone gave her great pleasure; she imagined him sitting alone in the house while it decayed around him wondering why he hadn’t been more loving of his sweet adopted daughter.

Johanna gazed at herself in the mirror and told herself for the time being she would force herself to pretend that the Judge was her rescuer, her prince. He was rescuing her from the world outside that wanted to strip her of her innocence. He was saving her from a life of being married to someone like Jo’s father, a fat drunkard. The Judge was even somewhat handsome, wasn’t he? He wasn’t corpulent and, over the last few days, when he kissed her, she no longer had that itchy feeling on her face from his beard. He had shaved and acquired a new suit she realized and didn’t his hair look different? He had said something about the barbers. Is he trying to look more princely for me? The thought made her feel a bit giddy and warm and something else. She didn’t think she had ever felt like this before. It was as if she had some small power over him. She sat down on the bed for a minute and tried to stop herself from smiling like an imbecile; she wanted to laugh too, not at him exactly but at the situation. She covered her smiling mouth with her hands. She felt stupid and beautiful.

Johanna finally recovered and decided that she would be affectionate to the Judge just as much as she had been when he was her father and just as she had imagined being affectionate to her prince. His beastly way was caused by her own ungrateful and unkind attitude. No, no, no, he wasn’t her captor, but her protector. He surely would take her out into the world to places that were safe and magical and shield her from those that weren’t, as he had sworn. If the world were a better place, he wouldn’t have kept her locked away from it, but it wasn’t and so he did. She would stop being selfish.


	20. New Lessons (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna quickly learns a new way to pleasure the Judge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some smut

The Judge sat on the couch thinking about what had happened and what he would do next. His lust was subdued for the time being. He had started fires in the kitchen and living room so that tea could be prepared and he and Johanna could sit some place comfortably. He didn’t feel like teaching her to be respectful again just now. It had felt amazingly good to have her in his power. He had made the right decision. 

About an hour and a half later, Johanna entered the living room in a different white dress, her hair combed, and body washed, carrying a tray with tea and cake. She put it down on table and sat beside the Judge.

“I’m sorry about my behavior. Please forgive me.” She kissed him on the cheek. The Judge wondered if this was the sort of kiss a daughter gave a father or if Johanna intended more by it. He put his hands on her face and kissed her mouth. To his sweet surprise, she kissed him back timidly. The lustful demon was back. He would push her down on the couch so as he could feel every curve of her body. She had gotten closer to him and her hands were running up and down his back. No, he wouldn’t feel every curve of her body, he would make her feel every muscle of his.  
The Judge leaned back and broke free from her kiss, opening his robe. He pulled Johanna to him, resting one of her hands on his stomach right above where he really wanted her to touch. She was looking straight into his face with a look of worry.

“Johanna, you will behave like a grateful child?”

“Yes.”

“You will give yourself to me willingly”

“Yes.”

“You will free me from this enslaving love?”

“Yes, I will try.”

“Good girl.” 

The Judge took her hand and placed it at the base of his rock-hard member and let out a groan. He saw Johanna was looking up at the ceiling, biting her bottom lip, she must have looked down and seen it he thought. Yes, the first and only one she’ll ever set eyes upon, he happily mused. Did she even know that boys and girls were formed differently down there, he wondered. 

Slowly, he began rubbing her hand up and down it and placed his freehand on the back of her neck, drawing her gaze down. He examined her face as she watched. She clearly found the site of his manhood distressing. Johanna looked into the Judge’s eyes and he began kissing her. Soon she returned his ardor. The Judge removed his hands off hers and allowed her to stroke his member without his assistance. He put his hand up her dress and stroked her thighs; he felt her tense when he did this and he made himself wait to touch her cunt until she relaxed more. When the tenseness lessened, he began stroking her cunt’s soft, downy hair. Soon he could no longer holdback and he finished in her hand. 

The middle aged man was in pure ecstasy and panting heavily. He had been busy kissing her neck and now he leaned back to see her face. She was looking down at the hand that had been pleasuring him, perturbed by the substance that was now on it and on her dress. The Judge grabbed her hand and licked and sucked one of her fingers, then ran her hand down his chest, leaving on it a trail of his cum. Her eyes were wide as he did this and when he let go of her hand she rubbed it up and down where the trail was. How was he meant to be moderate when this was taking place. The very eroticism of the act caused him to lean his head back and groan.


	21. Wishing for an education

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna has many questions but cannot voice them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter before another memory

Turpin let her continue rubbing his chest with her lithe fingers for a few minutes more before closing his robe. Sitting up, he began pouring the tea into two cups. With caution, she followed his lead and sat forward, as well, accepting a cup from him. The room was as silent as it had been last night, except for the Judge quietly eating a piece of cake. He saw Johanna out of the corner of his eye, her lips parted and eyebrows furtive as if wanting to ask a question and, most importantly, stealing secretive glances at his lap. He put his cake down and poured more tea for himself and without looking at her asked,  
“What is troubling you, Johanna.” She turned her head in the other direction, looking for someway to ask this question.

“Do all men have…those?” it took her a long time to say the short sentence and the Judge did not help her by finishing the sentence for her or answering it quickly. He sat and drank his tea and ate a few more bites of cake, reveling in her confusion. 

“If by those you mean what you were stroking, then yes. Did you really not know men and women were formed differently down there?”

“No…How could I? The only men I’ve ever met have been you, the Beadle, cabbies, the doctor, and….and Jo. When I started…”

“Yes?”

“When I started to change, started to become a woman, I thought I was dying.”

Yes, the Judge remembered that incident well, though he wished he did not.


	22. A Memory of the Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A memory from when Johanna began puberty and the changes she now hates began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't imagine the confusion and worry that must have ensued for many young girls of that time period (hahaha) when they began menstruation. During the Victorian era, there were some guide books written for girls about how to handle menstruation problems and what the change meant, but even these books were not always full of helpful information and seem to have had an obnoxiously critical view on women complaining about period pains.

When Johanna began bleeding, she had hid in her room from the whole house and wouldn’t tell anyone what was wrong. She had placed a chair in front of her door to keep everyone out and after this had gone on for 3 days, she slipped an enveloped letter under her door for a maid to pickup and bring to the Judge. He had opened it and saw it was a written request that everyone stay away from her in order to avoid the infection combined with a goodbye letter combined with a will.

The Judge had obviously been alarmed and tried to get Johanna to open the door. He looked through the peephole but could not see her (he found out later that she had been living in the bathroom). 

He quickly went to the doctor’s residence and when he showed him the letter, the doctor responded “How old is the girl? Thirteen?” and then chuckled “everything will be alright, old fellow.’ 

The Judge had found this highly inappropriate and was going to find a different respectful physician, but the doctor was already putting together his things to go to the Judge’s house. When they arrived, they both stood outside Johanna’s door.

“Johanna? It’s Dr. Lewis. Your father says you aren’t feeling well. Will you let me in, please?”

“No, I can’t. I’m horribly ill.”

“Really? Then I should have a look, shouldn’t I? What are your symptoms, dear girl?”

“Is my father with you?”

“Yes. Would you like him to leave?” The Judge looked at him wide-eyed. He wasn’t leaving. This was his house and his ward. 

“Yes” 

“Alright he will.”

“No, sir, I will not.” The Judge hissed.

“Just make footsteps as if you are.” He whispered back. The Judge did so.

“He’s gone, Johanna. Now tell me what are your symptoms?” Johanna did not reply. “Have you been sick?”

“No.”

“Have you had stomach pains and headaches?”

“Yes.”

“Have you been bleeding from an unmentionable place?” Silence. “Hmm?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not dying, my dear, merely growing up. Now if you let me in I can tell you what is happening and what you have to do.”

They heard Joanna take the chair away from the door.

The Judge stopped the doctor before he entered, “You are only to tell her about how she’s not dying and how frequently it will happen and what she must do when she gets it. Nothing about what it’s for or what-“

“Your honor, do you think I’d be the doctor of so many respectable families if I did things like that? I go through this same routine at least once a month, everything will be fine.” 

It was the first doctor’s visit Johanna had ever had alone.


	23. Rural Life

They sat in further silence as they ate and drank. He could sense she had many more questions, but she didn’t seem inclined to ask them.

“Shall we go for a walk?” he asked as if it were something normal in Johanna’s life to go for walks. 

They circled the grounds, Johanna taking his arm and occasionally bending down to look at and smell flowers. She was unreservedly asking him questions and commenting on the place’s beauty as she would’ve a week prior, except with a less natural, more nervous nature. She looked uncommonly pretty and the Judge wondered if they could live here. If they lived here, they would be alone. He imagined Johanna in a garden picking flowers, taking them back to the house, arranging them in an expensive vase, and putting them on the dining table for him to enjoy looking at. He imagined her sitting at his feet while he read a book, embroidering, the firelight playing on her face and covered breasts. She wouldn’t feel “trapped” here because she would have the gardens to walk and explore. He could touch her anytime without wondering what the servants thought.

It appeared to be the perfect solution until the Judge remembered who he was. He was not able to live without the ability to pass judgments on other peoples sins. This week, he knew, would already be a test for him. He loved to see how the defendant would squirm, if he was against him, and how the witness for the prosecution would, if he was for the defendant. Besides, while he found London to be a city of corruption, he knew he was part of its workings and its workings entrenched in him. 

Perhaps they could come on weekends. But, of course, that would be time consuming because he would never take Johanna on a train, so they would have to ride in a carriage. They could come, he supposed, whenever it struck his fancy to see Johanna in the gardens and have her completely to himself.


	24. Pleasure (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna admits to herself that there is something enjoyable in the Judge's touch. The new couple begin to make their way back to London? What awaits them there?

The rest of the week continued like this: the Judge showing Johanna how to please him, Johanna making tea and preparing very basic meals, and the two walking around the gardens or sitting in front of the fire. The Judge never had to violently attack her and rarely had to use his more authoritative voice with her. He told her that when she saw or could feel that his member was stiff, she would know he needed her. He told her that his cum was love juice and that its appearance combined with his member’s softening meant she had pleased him for the time being. He had even made her cum once, near the end of the trip, by lightly licking and kissing her everywhere. The only trouble he had encountered so far, after her change in attitude towards him, was her initial reluctance to suck him and her inability to truly enjoy their fornication. It had taken him two hours to get Johanna to suck him. With trepidation she would lick it and be disgusted with herself, begging him to fornicate with her or to let her use her hands instead. When she finally did do it, it was very pleasant for the Judge in the fact that it symbolized his control over her, but otherwise it wasn’t very skilled and he knew he would have to teach her how to do it properly. 

For Johanna, it had been a very confusing time between learning about the anatomy of a man and how to please one and trying to remain happy about these new duties in her life and not wince when the Judge came behind her while she was in the kitchen and rubbed himself against her using his hands to find her breasts. She wanted to still converse with him as she had a week prior and she made herself do this when they went for a walk or sat by the fire, despite feeling herself changed and awkward around him. She could tell it sounded more forced than she intended it to, but as the week went by it became less so and she started becoming more comfortable talking and sitting in silence with him. 

Then there had been the night when they had been in bed together and the Judge had made her feel so wonderful and odd. He had been kissing and letting his fingers explore the spot before, sometimes causing her an immense amount of pain, but he hadn’t made her feel good until the day before they left for home. The movements of his tongue and hands had had an effect on her whole body; without meaning to she raised her hips to him and opened her legs wider, her heart beat quickened and she couldn’t concentrate on any thought that passed through her mind. She wanted to throw him off her because there was a certain element of pain to this wonderful feeling, but she wanted to keep him there, too, her body begging for more. When he finished, she was glistening with sweat and panting, in disbelief of how fast her heart was beating, in disbelief of anything. He kissed her on her face and stroked her stomach and she trembled again, feeling faint and yet incredibly alive. She would never be completely comfortable with him as her husband – she had never been that when he was her father, trying to impress him and never defy him, despite the fact that she was a maturing girl who sometimes felt the natural instincts of rebellion against and disillusionment with her parent – but she was more comfortable with it than she thought she would be when he first asked her. 

The new bride was sad to leave the cottage because she was allowed to go outside and there were birds everywhere and even a cat to pet, but she was also anticipating going back because she felt she had shown the Judge that she would not run away and that she was a good wife who he could proudly take to public events. 

On their way home she asked sincerely, “When will our first trip out be?”

The Judge was alarmed by this question. After their first time together he had forgotten his sworn promise. He didn’t want the world to see her. “Soon.”  
“Do you think it will be a play or concert or a ballet or would you take me to an art gallery?”

“I haven’t decided what it will be yet. Come here.” And he took her further into her arms to quiet her.


	25. Dissatisfaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven months as a newlyweds has passed. How is Johanna coping? What has the Judge gotten away with?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know in the film, the Judge's study has some lurid wallpaper. However, since I am also using some of the characteristics of the broadway version's Judge, who was much more sanctimonious, I reasoned that he probably wouldn't have naked women on his walls.

Over the past seven months, Johanna was still making herself remain trusting of her husband. She sometimes enjoyed their times together, seeing how she could make the Judge so satisfied made her feel a certain amount of contentment and security. In some ways, this time was like the time before she had changed; they sat and talked and played cards and he watched her brush her hair or read. The Beadle still came over many times but it was often just for tea and not dinner. Johanna no longer had to occupy herself in just one room of the house, she could move about the rooms, and she looked mostly forward to the Judge’s return home. There had only been a few times when the Judge needed to remind her of how to be a good wife and she made herself keep in line.   
But she was beginning to feel restless and aggravated that the Judge had not taken her out anywhere. One weekend they were meant to go to the cottage, but it was storming outside and the Judge could not see the point. She would ask him when or where they would go and he would give her the answer “soon” and “I don’t know”. He became aggravated if she asked him further. 

Before her marriage, she had not had the promise that she would get to go out. Yes, she and the Judge sometimes went out for carriage rides, but that was maybe only once a month. With this expectation in her heart, she became more listless about her confinement. Not to mention, she felt herself an adult and thought it unfair that she be kept indoors like a child. Sometimes she imagined that she would get dressed and leave the house to go on a walk or to the shops as if she did this everyday; the maid would stop her at the front door and look astonished and she would just say “I’m going for a turn around Hyde Park. If the Judge returns home before I do, tell him I shall be back by tea time.” She imagined the look of shock and perhaps fear on the maid’s face as she put on her gloves and hat and exited the house. But she never had the courage to actually do this. She was afraid of how the Judge would react and that he would never take her to any of those places she desperately yearned to see.

Johanna wondered why he hadn’t taken her anywhere yet. What did she have to do to prove to her husband that she would act respectfully and not talk to anyone and only look at the men who were on the stage? She had no one to really talk to besides him. She had never been very friendly with the maids, not because she hadn’t tried, but because they did their jobs “properly” the Judge told her. When she was very little, they would have her sit in the kitchen with them until the Judge returned home or her strict governess came to teach her for 4 hours. They had never really talked with her; they gave her her meals and more tea if she asked for it and brought down a toy or a book she wanted if it was upstairs and let her play by herself. They were not talkative, gossiping maids; the Judge had once employed one that was and promptly got rid of her once he found her conversing with a 5 year old, mesmerized Johanna about a lowbrow show she had seen over the weekend. They had never been outright mean or rude to her; they were very polite and would get her a tissue or a biscuit if they found her crying, but that was it. And now that she was mistress of the house, they were cooler to her, knowing she was their master’s wife. She sometimes sensed an immense degree of sympathy emanating from Ms. Foster, but if the woman did feel something for her, she did not make it known. The Judge still took control of the household accounts, dispersal of chores, and weekly menus, remembering how he hated the idea of Johanna becoming a normal housewife. 

The oddest development in the past seven months was how the Judge reshuttered the window in Johanna’s old room three days ago. A week after they returned, Johanna un-shuttered the window and would sit there, not as forlornly as before, but with more curiosity, as when she was a child. She would look at what the women would wear and wonder if the Judge was going to make or let her wear that when they went out. She would sit there when she was listless and smile when she saw a couple or a child pass by, simultaneously feeling envious of their freedom. She no longer cried by the window. If she felt like crying, she laid upon her old bed or sat at her old dressing table. But then the Judge had shuttered the window again. She remembered how she entered the room when he was gone and tried to find the key. She asked the servants if they had locked the shutters and if they had to produce the key. They told her the master had taken it that morning and locked the shutters himself. She was angry with him when she heard that but made herself calm down before he came home.

After dinner, when she was sitting at his feet in the parlor, she asked him why he had taken the key and reshuttered the windows.

“Because I don’t find it appropriate for my wife to sit in the window all day, exposing herself to strangers’ eyes.”

She tried to make herself sound less upset then she really was, saying incredulously, “Dearest, I hardly sit at the window all day and I doubt anyone is looking up at me.” 

“I don’t like for you to sit at that window, Johanna. You can sit at the two down here, if you wish to look outside. Or even at the ones in my study.”

“But, darling, the sight from that window is so fine and I really don’t spend that much time at-“

“Johanna, I have said what I have to on this subject and we will not discuss it further.”

Johanna sat there fuming. “Please?” she tried again.

“No.”

She wanted to yell at him and tell him how much she hated him, but she just sat there looking down blankly at her book feeling a tempest within herself. Yelling at him would change nothing and might make him close all the windows, she speculated. Her one source of comfort was that she was in her bleeding time and she wouldn’t have to please the Judge tonight. She soon went up to her old bed, where she normally slept during those seven days (provided she left the door open) and fell asleep in the middle of a fake argument with the Judge wherein she won.

What else could she do than make use of the four windows available to her disposal. The Judge always kept closed the windows in the other upstairs rooms. These fours windows still afforded some sights, though none as pleasurable or comforting as those Johanna had sighted from her room's window. The room, she realized, was her main objection. The Judge's study was dark even with a fire and sunlight pouring in. The room should have felt warm what with all the mahogany furniture and burgundy walls, but there something distinctively devious about it. Johanna never admitted this to herself.

Johanna was beginning to wonder if the Judge would ever relinquish any of the control he had on her.


	26. Johanna's Birthday (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna has been longing for her promised outing. Will the Judge follow through?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rape and non-con elements, attempted suicide

Another three months had passed. She was a little less contented by the pleasure the Judge took in her body, but tried not to let on. The Judge had certainly come more and more to expect without question, her to do certain things for him, his already massive level of entitlement growing. She talked to him less and sat more at his feet in silence sewing or reading or completing a puzzle; her silence wasn’t that resentful sort of silence yet, rather just a realization that she had little to talk about enthusiastically. In whole, she had lost much of her enthusiasm and just lived day to day. She had stopped asking the Judge when and where they would take their first social outing. It was easier not to get her hopes up. 

Some days Johanna spent the entire day just traveling room to room; she wondered if she’d go mad living like this. She even started to appreciate the Beadle’s presence because it gave her someone else to converse with or at least listen to. Some days she really thought she would just walk out of the house into the pouring rain or hazy sunlight and walk all of London by herself, getting lost, and not returning home until the sun was rising the next day.  
She still took comfort from the times when the Judge would hold her while they slept. The act gave her an incredibly comfortable, safe feeling and even when she was mad at him, she liked feeling his arm drape across her.

She knew her birthday was close and she hoped the Judge was planning on taking her somewhere, even if it was just to the cottage. She began picking up her Shakespeare books again and reading them in front of him to give him a hint.

However, the day of her birthday, the Judge gave no indication of their going out that night. He gave her a new set of watercolors at breakfast as well as a pearl necklace which he placed on her himself saying, “What we men do for pretty women.” She wondered if he was surprising her, so she didn’t ask him about that night. She tried not to get her hopes up, but could not stop herself. Johanna dressed herself in something that could easily be taken off if he returned that night and told her they were going out and needed to wear something more elaborate. 

The Judge returned home with the Beadle after tea time. He was pleased to see Johanna was wearing the pearls he had given her and said he had asked the maids to prepare a special meal for all three of them. Johanna kept telling herself to simply be patient and wait for him to reveal his plans. Maybe it was just a carriage ride, but that would be better than nothing. 

The dinner was indeed special, more decadent food than they normally ate and of course a birthday cake which Johanna only had a small slice of, beginning to think nothing was going to happen. They retired to the parlor and the Judge and the Beadle began a conversation with each other, ignoring her. Johanna waited for two hours for the Judge to say something to the Beadle about leaving, but he never did. She finally went up to bed because she felt that if she didn’t she would begin crying in front of both men, which would be mortifying. She lied on the bed, not bothering to undress, feeling betrayed and sick.

She awoke to the Judge kissing her face and hand exploring underneath her dress. He saw she was awake, “mmm…my little rosebud” and kissed her with more fervor. Johanna realized that he was expecting her to pleasure him tonight. She lay there feeling horrendously empty inside. He turned her onto her back and began undoing the button’s on her dress. No she couldn’t let him do this. Everything he’d said had been a lie. He was never taking her anywhere. It was painfully obvious. How could she have been so infantile? If she let him take her tonight, that would be the end of her self-respect. He would see he could treat her anyway he wanted without any risk.

“No. No. No. No!” she turned over. She tried to escape from underneath him.

“Johanna, what did you say?”

“No, not tonight. We won’t do this tonight.”

“Johanna,” he said trapping her underneath his weight more, “I do not think I should have to remind you of a wife’s duty to her husband after we’ve been married ten months.”

She wanted to argue with him, but not underneath him like this where he would easily win; where he could easily reenact their violent first time together.  
“You do not. I do not feel well…and it’s my birthday.” She replied lamely.

“Yes, it is your birthday and as you know,” he said kissing her face, “I have already given you a present, an expensive present, Johanna.”

Not the present I truly wanted, she thought. She was not going to give up on the diplomatic approach yet. “Yes, and I thanked you for it. It is beautiful and I will treasure it, just please do not make me tonight…I will do whatever you want tomorrow night, but just please not now.”

“No, Johanna” and he turned her back over and commenced unbuttoning her dress. Johanna tried to escape from him but was unsuccessful. Her mind was in such a panicked state that she was barely aware of the movement of her limbs. As he began lifting her dress, she kicked him in the stomach. He was winded and lost his grip of her. Realizing what she had done, she scampered off the bed and ran to the locked door. What had possessed her to do that, she wondered. There was no time to think, however. She had to get out of this room.

Johanna espied the Judge’s coat resting on a chair and found the key inside one of the pockets. Just as the Judge began stumbling up from the bed, she managed to unlock the door and ran out of the room, up the stairs to her old bedroom. It dawned upon her that its door was closed. It was locked. The Judge was now at the bottom of the stairs saying her name threateningly. She felt like a trapped bird. 

There was no point in giving up yet. She ran up the rest of the stairs; maybe the key she had would work. But it didn’t and the Judge was now upon her. Johanna backed into the corner and slid down the wall curling up into a ball. The Judge tried to get her up or make her unravel herself from her inconvenient position, saying her name as a warning, becoming ever more tired and frustrated. Johanna just kept begging for him to stop and looking to see if there was an opportunity for her to escape. 

The Judge was beginning to lose his strength and when he stood up, panting against the wall, she made a run for it. She hurriedly dashed down the stairs and reentered their bedroom closing the door behind her locking the door. The Judge began banging on the door and Johanna looked for something to push in front of it. All the furniture in their room was heavy. She began pushing the armchair that was in front of the fire. She was concentrating on it so much that she didn’t notice when the knocking stopped. 

One more push and it will be alright, she told herself. Then the Judge opened the door. He had retrieved another key he had from his study. He looked furious and Johanna lost all the confidence she had had in her ability to save herself. She hesitated and then ran to the bathroom, the Judge following behind her. She slammed the door and looked for anything to protect herself. There was his razor. She picked it up as the door opened and she turned around.  
“Johanna,” the Judge panted. “Come to the bed right now and I will be lenient with you. I will pretend that what just happened did not. I will forgive you. Come to bed.” She stepped back towards the bath and shook her head hiding the razor behind her back.“Johanna, I do not know what demon has possessed you tonight but I will not be refused by you.” She stepped into the bathtub looking at him defiantly. “Johanna, I am giving you a chance of clemency. You would be wise to take it. You have defied me, but I will forgive you.” 

“I have done everything you wanted! I have been a dutiful daughter and wife! I’ve slept with you and pleased however much you wanted! I’ve kept you company! Why can you not just leave me alone!” she screamed as tears filled her eyes.

“Joh –“

“I love you and I want to make you happy, but please just go and leave me!”

“Johanna –“

“What haven’t I done for you? I’ve stayed away from the windows and I’ve stayed indoors and I’ve waited patiently for you to tell me when we will go out together. Why won’t you just tell me?”

“Johanna, you will stop this now” he said in his cool moderate tone.

“Did you lie to me? Will you ever let me leave this place?”

“No,” he said very calmly and firmly, “I promised to take you to these places when I go to them, but I never go to them. You never specified how often we needed to go either. And if you think that now I will take you to them, you misjudge me.” She slid down into the tub in despair. “Now, you will get out of the bath and you will return to our bedroom where you will willingly accept a whipping and then pleasure me in the manner I find most agreeable.” He walked toward the tub and Johanna finally revealed the razorblade, easing it on her opposing wrist, looking at him with defiance.

The Judge stopped. “Johanna, you will put that down and come to bed.” She just shook her head and cried. “If you do that, Johanna, you will go to hell for your selfish sin. God has no mercy for those who take their lives in vain.”

She thought of all the things she had heard about hell from him; she felt she was in it right now, but in truth she knew she wasn’t. The thought of going there terrified her; she didn’t really want to kill herself, she just wanted him to leave her. Why was he doing this? He owned her already. He made almost all her decisions. What more did he hope to gain?

“Please, father, please, if I get out please just let me go to bed. Please, father, please. I won’t ever defy you again, just please…” She hadn’t called him father since they were first married, but she wanted him to be her father now. She felt if she had threatened this before they were married, when he was her father, he would have done anything to prevent her from going through with it.

“Yes, Johanna. Alright,” sounding defeated. 

Wearily Johanna stood up, got out of the tub, and placed the razor on the sink before him. Hanging her head, she slipped past him into the bedroom where she undressed. Currently, she had no energy to spare. Johanna didn’t care if he saw. Getting into bed naked, she wrapped the covers securely around, trying to recover from what had probably been the most traumatic night of her life thus far.


	27. Victory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Judge reflects upon the events of Johanna's birthday night. He thinks upon a new course of action.

The Judge watched her as she undressed and entered the bed. He wasn’t sure who had won the battle. Maybe they both had. He knew though that he wouldn’t keep his razor here anymore. He turned it over, still standing in the bathroom looking at her. When she fell asleep, he left the room and went to his study and put it in his bag with his papers. He sat in there with one light burning thinking about what had just passed between them. 

The night hadn’t gone as he had planned. He knew that Johanna would be expecting to go somewhere on her birthday and he saw it as his chance to cure her of her obsession. He had the Beadle stay late as to avoid having an argument with her. He had expected to enter the room, pretend like everything was normal and go to sleep, ending that dream of hers without even trying. But it clearly hadn’t worked like that. 

For one thing, Johanna looked beautiful in those pearls and he couldn’t help but feel she should be more grateful for them. And another, he had drank more than he intended when visiting with the Beadle. When he saw Johanna lying so innocently on the bed, his gift still upon her throat, he desired her too much to desist. And he had the knowledge that soon she would realize her life truly belonged to him; she would be kept from the world. An addictive feeling of power rushed through him. When she had uttered “no,” she questioned that power. He knew he had a responsibility to himself and husbands everywhere to not accept her rebellion. He hadn’t expected what had happened next: the chase, fight, threat of suicide. And then she had called him father and he couldn’t refuse her anymore. This haunted him. What if she used it again? 

No, he would not bend again. His young wife now understood that her place was with him, not the outside world. She had seen that he could be merciful, but that he was also unafraid to chase her through the house and threaten physical violence upon her. She may have eluded him this time, but that was because he wanted her to. This was a warning. Next time he wouldn’t be so judicious. If she defied him like that again or threatened suicide, he would have the Beadle take her to the asylum. The true victor had been he.


	28. Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What effect did the birthday incident have upon Johanna's manner.

The Judge never told the Beadle about what had happened the night of Johanna’s birthday. He and Johanna never discussed it either. She had remained in bed, the whole next day resting and when he came to bed, she was still sleeping. However, his eyes lit up at the sight of the pearls, she was still wearing them. Perhaps having forgotten to take them off during her quick undressing the night before. When the Judge woke in the morning, he found his arms around her naked body. Her sign of an apology, he thought.

With her expectation of leaving the house gone, Johanna lost the restlessness the Judge had noticed in her. And with the fight, she lost the feelings of angst that had built up in her over the past few months. A calmness descended upon the house. Johanna was tired more of the time, too, but this didn’t make her say no to his advances. In fact, she seemed to be more…focused when pleasuring him. But it wasn’t some clinical, sterile focus, like the kind inexperienced whores had; it was something else. 

Spiritual is perhaps the best word to describe how Johanna’s pleasuring of him had changed. She had become more spiritual in the sense that she only thought of the present moment when they were kissing and touching. She wanted to bring him to ecstasy not out of a sense of love and duty, but out of this sense that she no longer wanted to be in her body thinking of the past or future. If they were making love, she was living in the present, feeling his hands explore and squeeze her and feeling her own do the same to him. And then afterwards she could hide in his arms and chest. She felt inconceivably stupid in regards to everything (her expectations of going on outings and the theatrical events of that night) and when she felt up or was felt up, she not only received respite from her thoughts, but could tell herself that there was one thing she was good at. She forgave the Judge for his actions that night but really what was there to forgive? She had not made him swear a very well planned oath and she was the one who had behaved hyperbolically. She had come to the conclusion that the Judge was not infallible as she mostly convinced herself when he was her father (knowing what was best for her and the most moral thing, though perhaps slightly faulted), but that he was a better human than her and much wiser.


	29. Two Years On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two years have passed since the birthday incident. How has Johanna tolerated her isolation and lost dreams?

The next two years passed with almost no incident. True, she still often felt agitated and there were times when she wished to rebel against the Judge, but Johanna managed to temper these emotions. She was resilient. Johanna’s phases of worthlessness would pass and give way to ones where she would begin to feel more like her hopeful, enthusiastic self, though never as much as before the marriage. Her sense of self would largely be rebuilt by her renewed focus on activities that she enjoyed doing and gave her purpose to her life. The spark would be reignited. 

After months of feeling detached from herself, Johanna would one day pick up a book that the Judge had been having her read to him from and something in it or the Judge’s reaction would restore some of her confidence back to her. Or she would be lazily doodling and suddenly the muse would strike and she would be drawn from her depression. During these times, if the Judge approved of the creation, she was elated, but if he didn’t she was able to withstand the criticism and promise herself and him that the next artistic work would be better. While she did not consciously realize this, the Judge’s betrayal of her trust, which was never how she consciously phrased it, gave her freedom in a way. She did not defy him or actively resent him. She took pride in those moments when she could unexpectedly please him. But she gained some independence in regards to not letting his negative opinion on things she did affect her so much.   
It was as if she had built a wall around herself. A wall that allowed her to minimize the Judge’s criticism. Internally, she sighed, “oh well” rather than taking it to heart. She had realized years ago that perhaps he was not infallible, but she pitied his minor faults and thought that they came from him being slightly too serious and wanting the best for her. Now, however, she had subconsciously realized he not only had faults but sinned. This knowledge let her become somewhat untwined from his web. 

These phases would come and go, but luckily for Johanna she was able to maintain the latter phases for longer, even if she sometimes only had the wherewithal to pretend she was interested in something or semi-content serving and pleasing the Judge. There were days and weeks when it all left her and she could do nothing but go through the most basic motions, waiting for the time when she would be transported from herself while pleasuring him.   
And then there were the days that happened once every three months where she was gripped by an overwhelming fear. It would seize her unexpectedly and paralyze her. She could be doing something as normal as sitting in the bath and humming and suddenly she would feel a huge weight descend upon her, crushing her. She would try to shake it away and think of other things. She would occupy herself with painting, but she couldn’t escape the panic. Her mind would spin with thoughts of how she would never leave this prison and how the Judge would never let her be truly happy and how when she died no one would care. She imagined how one rainy day, the Judge and Beadle would stand in a cemetery with a vicar in front of her grave. There would be no one else there. No other living beings would ever even glance at the lonely headstone of Mrs. Turpin.

Thoughts of her husband’s true nature, an uncaring nature, would fill her mind until she felt unable to breath. She would run up to her old room, slam the door shut and lie on the bed crying and then run to the shuttered window and frantically try to open it as if by opening it all her fears would fly away. She would contemplate breaking it. But in the end, she simply sat at the window, tracing the line where the shutters met. As when she was a child, she would sit alone in her old room until dinner when she would change and join the Judge. On those dyas, her every emotion would be drained and she would neither hate nor love the Judge.

These times of panic were when she thought of her true parents. She would wonder if they had ever loved each other and been happy together. She wondered if being raised by them really would have led her down the path of ruin.


	30. Johanna's Origins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna reflects upon what she's been told of her parents. What did the Judge tell her of her origins?

Johanna had grown up knowing that the Judge was not her real father and that she was not his real daughter. Before she was nine, the Judge only told her that her father had been a bad man whose neglect caused her mother’s death and that she was not to think on them. He was her father now and would keep her safe from men like that. He wouldn’t answer anymore of her questions till she was nine. Then he told her that her mother had been a good, but misguided woman who had married a sinful and wasteful man. 

According to him, her mother was simple, at one time beautiful, and had died of consumption a little while after Johanna’s birth. This was all he ever said about her. He had much to say about her father, however. He told her how he had wasted money gambling on horses, cards, and anything else that could be betted upon. Furthermore, he drank to excess, which exposed to all those around him his stupidity and violent temper. His drinking and gambling made it so that he could not pay for a doctor for Johanna or her sick mother. Finally, a few months after her mother’s death, her father was arrested for assaulting a man and stealing from a former friend to pay off gambling debts. His case came before the Judge. The Judge told her that he had tried to be lenient with her father because he cut a must pitiable figure and used Johanna’s wellbeing as an excuse for his theft. He sentenced him to two years in prison to think upon his sins, hoping the man would repent and reenter the world reformed. Because there was no respectable person to take care of little Johanna, the Judge viewed it as his responsibility to take care of her, planning to give her back to her real father when he was released. 

After two years had passed, when Johanna was three, the Judge carried her to her real father’s place of residence expecting him to be elated to see his little girl. The scene, however, was quite the reverse. Just released from prison two months prior, the Judge found the man in his dingy room drinking whiskey and playing cards with a number of disreputable men. 

“I did not give up hope, against my better judgment. Though it pained me, I offered you back to him, Johanna, but he only laughed at my offer and told me if I’d tired of you to take you to the workhouse. I thought that perhaps the influence of alcohol and the presence of his friends made him act in such an unkindly manner. I approached him again 2 days later when he was alone and sober, but his opinion had remained unchanged. I cannot lie: I was a little pleased for my own sake that he did not wish to take you from me. I was relieved for your own that you would not be left to this deviant, who most likely would have caused you to suffer the same fate as your mother or forced you to enter into his sinful deeds. I saw then that I was right to distrust so many members of my own sex. Even in the presence of his own child, he refused to change and bade me to send an innocent girl to a place of hardship. I could not send you to that place or to any other place away from me because, unlike your wretch of a father, I cared for you immensely, even loved you despite my attempts not to love this thing that was not mine. I would not see you become another victim of men like your father, as your mother had been. Thus, I kept you here where you would be safe. In less than a year’s time, your father committed another crime that resulted in the death of a man. I did not oversee the case; I asked the judge to grant your father some clemency and only sentence him to a life of imprisonment, for your sake, but the judge saw better and sent him to the gallows. Your father died unrepentant. I swore then that I would see you protected from this world’s cruelties and adopted you as my ward.” 

For many months after this, she thought on her origins and felt ashamed. She finally vowed that she would not be like her real father and she would show the Judge as much love, mercy, and kindness that he had shown her. She forsook her real father and refused to let herself think of him. As for her mother…as for her, Johanna would periodically think about her wondering what she was like and if they looked alike. She would sometimes wonder what her mother would say about this and that. Sometimes thoughts of her mother would emerge when Joanna tried on a new dress or she read about a mother and daughter, usually in a fairy story. She would hug the thought to her person, but then let it go again telling herself that her mother was probably in heaven living in peace and she should let her rest there. She thought that perhaps sometimes her mother looked down at her, but did not ruminate on the possibilities of this.  
Ultimately, however, she gradually stopped doing this because she knew nothing about her and neither did the Judge and it only made her sad. She did not forsake her mother, but she placed her in the back of her thoughts. She had the Judge to protect and lover her and the Judge needed her.


	31. An Omen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Judge has satisfied his lust through other means, but how much longer can this continue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel that the Judge would be anal (ahahaha) and persnickety enough to follow this kink for nearly three years. However, I don't think he can exist for much longer without vaginal intercourse.

Despite being married for almost three years, the Judge had avoided deflowering Johanna. At first, his promise to abstain from stripping her of her virtue for a whole year nearly drove him mad. He nearly abandoned it several times, a slave to his lust. 

When he had a small garden erected in the alleyway for Johanna, he nearly lost the battle as he watched her tending to it. When he stood in the bedroom doorway and secretly watched Johanna combing her hair, oblivious to his presence, he came close to breaking his self made vow. When he came home from court and she kissed him then led the way into the parlor and poured his tea, he could not help but lust after her. But once he grew accustomed to denying himself this, he became prideful of his willpower and his pretty virgin wife. 

As well, he imagined one day that Johanna would disobey him and he would introduce her to the true pain of being a wife. Yes, he would use it as a weapon. He could no longer imagine how he could romantically and sensitively introduce it to her. He would make her truly feel his power when she defied him.


	32. Awful Discoveries (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something momentous has happened, but Johanna cannot yet remember it. She ventures into the Judge's study searching for answers and comes upon some new information that perhaps she'd have been happier not knowing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hints of rape/non-con, as well as some porn references, particularly to the Victorian erotica magazine "The Pearl."

Johanna hurt everywhere from the events of last night. Her mind was muddled and her hands shook. What had happened? She felt like something had been unkindly taken from her by her husband. No, they had only done something different the night before. Something they had never done. They had been in some sort of argument and then he had pushed himself where he usually only placed his fingers. He had called her ungrateful and immoral and then…

The maid entered bringing in her breakfast. Johanna hastily took it from her. The maid was looking at Johanna’s wrists and she followed the woman’s gaze. Johanna was shocked to find bruises there. After quickly dismissing the maid, Johanna examined them. Had the Judge done this to her? Her breath came in short bouts as she recalled the argument of the night prior. 

Perhaps if she would take a bath, that would surely help relieve the grogginess. The maid drew her bath and Johanna bid her to leave as soon as possible. Johanna commenced washing herself but was arrested when she saw her legs. Each ankle had red marks around it. Her fingers traced one line and then the other. The lines went around her whole ankle and burned to the touch. She finished cleaning herself, no closer to the truth. As she dressed in front of the mirror, she saw with horror that her back was covered in black and blue marks. Her fingers circled the edges of the bruises. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“One minute, please.” She buttoned up the dress as quickly as she could and let the maid come in to make the bed. Johanna did not know what to do. She left the room and went down to the parlor and when the maid finished, she returned to their room. Filled with a nervous anxiety, she traversed through every room in the house to try and rid herself of this panicked feeling. She wanted to ask the Judge what had happened last night, even if it meant looking stupid in front of him. 

Johanna went into his study to find his date book. She searched through the neatly organized papers on his desk and found nothing. She started searching through his desk. She never did this: search through his things. The Judge had been very specific with her since she was a child that certain bookshelves were his, as were the drawers in his desk. She could ask one of the maids when the master would be home, but she didn’t want to. She was determined to find something pertaining to his whereabouts. Why did he get to have secrets and she did not? 

She turned to his bookshelf. Quickly she went to the study door and locked it. She dragged a chair over to the forbidden bookshelf and stood atop it; her hands feeling the top of the bookshelf to look for anything. She rested her head in despair against one of the shelves. That’s when she spotted a piece of paper peeking out of the top of one of the books directly below her eye level. The piece of paper was much smaller than the width of the book; perhaps some sort of bookmark. Johanna slid the book out of its resting place and stepped off the chair. She placed the book on the desk and opened it from where the paper hid.  
Johanna hardly knew what she was looking at. First, the bookmark was not a mere piece of paper, but a photo of a nude woman playfully looking over her backside. Johanna stared at the photo, not fully recognizing its significance. She then placed the photo aside and examined the page. There were written notes all over the margins in, Johanna noted, the Judge’s handwriting. She turned a few more pages and saw the same thing until she came to a page that had on it an illustration of a man and woman together. The man was spanking the woman with a rod and from a mirror in the corner of the room, the viewer could see that the woman was enjoying it. There was a note written on the side of the image: “Holly tends to be too hard. A softer wood is needed.” Johanna began turning the pages rapidly, stopping at the pages with an illustration. There were illustrations of men sucking women and vice versa and men ripping off women’s bodices and then, finally, an image of a man atop a woman holding her down. Johanna quickly pushed the book away and stepped back. She made herself look at the image again. Her heart beat incredibly fast and she felt like the world was ending. She studied the image for a minute more, letting it sink into her head.  
The images made her angry and confused. This was no law book. She looked up at the bookshelf. Were any of these official papers? The ones on the lower levels looked like loosely bound sheets of paper and were dusty, but the ones at the top, where this one came from, were properly bound books and did not look as if they had been long forgotten. She climbed onto the chair again and took another book down. She opened it and saw similar images, except where the previous book had had images of men and women in colonial garb, this was one was filled with illustrations of the orient. These images were much more graphic, but like the first book, contained copious notes from the Judge. Johanna pulled down two more books: one contained images of Indian and Moorish harems and the other nuns and priests breaking their vows of celibacy. 

She had looked at each book rapidly and now felt exhausted. Sat atop the desk, Johanna reopened the first book up to the first page and began turning the pages slowly, scanning the pages to see words like “rock-hard,” “member,” “prick,” “cunt,” and “breasts” appear frequently. Johanna turned the pages only picking up words or short sentences and then came upon a loose piece of paper inside the book that she had missed before. It was a list of some kind written in the Judge’s handwriting. There was a column for Number, Name, Date, Place, Position. Johanna traced her finger down the list of names, “Jenny,” “Mary,” “Eleanor,” “Pamela,” “Lydia,” amongst others. They were all female names. Joanna turned the page over. Her name was at the bottom of the list, #93. She turned the list over again. She began examining the other columns. The place and date told her nothing, but the last column with its repeat of the words “jockey,” “dog,” “anal,” “tied up,” “missionary,” amongst others, held great interest for her. She grabbed the book of the clergy’s misdeeds and opened it to the illustrations again. An image to correspond with each of those words. Johanna turned the sheet over again and looked at her name again. 

There was something she hadn’t seen before: under the position column was a list with checks. Next to “anal,” “mutual suck,” “cunnilingus,” “fellatio,” “hand play” were “x”es. The word underneath them, “Fornication” was not marked. Johanna was horribly confused. She looked at the corresponding dates and place, all of which were a date from her wedding week and “the cottage.” She could guess what hand play and mutual suck meant. Johanna looked back at the clergy book: a man sucking a woman was cunnilingus, the reverse was fellatio, and a man entering a woman’s bottom was “sodomization or, proverbially, anal.” But this was fornication. Why hadn’t he marked it? She found the picture in the clergy book of a priest atop a nun and read the caption, “The Act of Marriage.” She felt horribly ill. Her head was spinning. She turned the list over again and scanned the columns. She began to cry as she realized he had slept or at least been with all these women. There had been 92 women before her. She looked at the names above hers, but there were no names just places – Street, Opium Den, Madame’s – and positions. She looked at the positions, but it was the dates that caught her attention: they were less than 2 months before her wedding. She pushed herself away from the desk and leaned against the wall facing the desk. What was this? There were all the names and dates of other girls to think about, but there was also that blank space next to “fornication.” She slowly approached the desk again and looked at the “Act of Marriage.” She read the paragraph below it.

"Bishop ________ introduces the novice to the cloth. He marries her to the church as all laymen marry their lay wives to them. The bishop lies with the novice, her virginity taken, “Good, my child. Just as a man is not truly married to his wife until this act is completed, so too is a godly woman not married to the church until a sanctified prick has entered her cunt.”

She heard the grandfather clock in the foyer chime. How many times had it gone off? Johanna ran over to the mantel and looked at the pocket watch that the Judge always kept there. It was almost tea time. How had she spent so long in here? He would be home soon and there was this mess. She began closing the books. She thought about taking the list but decided against it incase the Judge went looking for it. She started placing the books back on the shelf, but what order did they go in? She tried to remember put the chair back in the corner and started reorganizing the papers on the Judge’s desk, making sure all the drawers were shut. 

She would go to the parlor and act as if she hadn’t been in his study at all, but just as she finished this the front door opened and she heard the Judge’s voice and the maid tell him she had been in the study for several hours. She quickly unlocked the door and went to the window to sit.

He entered the room, “Johanna.”

“Hmmm?” she said as if she hadn’t just been rushing around the room or knew the lateness of the hour.

“You weren’t there to greet me at the door” he approached his desk and put down his papers.

“Oh, no, I lost track of time. I don’t feel very well.”

“No? Ms. Foster said she tried to call to you earlier, you didn’t respond and the door was locked.”

“Yes, I locked the door to not be disturbed while studying my French and fell asleep. I only just awoke…I unlocked the door when I put my book away.” She wondered if this was convincing at all. She wasn’t used to lying.

He walked over to her and kissed the top of her head, then put the back of his hand to her forehead. “You feel feverish, Johanna. Come, let me take you to bed.”  
“No…Please just let me rest here a minute more…The thought of climbing those stairs.” The Judge lifted her face and began to kiss her. Johanna felt herself kiss him back. He stopped and held her head against his body, stroking her hair affectionately. 

“I think I can make it to bed alone. Go and have your tea.” He let her up and they kissed. She led the way out of the study and the Judge kissed her again at the foot of the stairs. She went up them making it look like she was going to their bedroom. When he entered the parlor, she climbed the additional stairs and went to her old room, which remained unlocked during the day. She quietly closed the door and went and lay on the bed. She began looking at her wrists again; the bruises were in the shape of a hand and they had become more pronounced since this morning. She traced the number “93” over one bruise and soon fell asleep.


	33. A Loss of Sanctity (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna's memory of the night in question may be foggy, but the Judge's certainly isn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rape, non-con elements.

The Judge looked through the peephole at Johanna, his pretty, bruised little rosebud. Her sanctity was gone but he didn’t find her any less alluring. Her breath was so light when she slept that he sometimes feigned sleep so as to watch her as her breasts fell and rose with each delicate breath. The voyeur in him had not disappeared, which was why he had made a peephole in their bedroom. Sometimes he took pleasure in watching her undress from outside the room. 

The fight that had led to her deflowering had been a silly one. She had been in one of her rare moods when she testily replied to every question he asked her. The Judge instructed her to retrieve her new lace gloves for their guest, the Beadle, to see. She had given some excuse about being busy; she was in the middle of painting. He gave her an order and she refused him further asking pardon but she was tired and would just go to bed now. He warned her, but she still did it. It was then that he knew what he needed to do. This had been building up for some months and this was the opportune time to enact his vengeance. 

He and the Beadle ascended the stairs and entered the bedroom without knocking. Johanna, adorned in her short nightgown, quickly picked up the Judge’s robe to cover herself more. Once again, he demanded Johanna show the Beadle the gloves, which infuriated her. Again, she refused. The Judge approached her and removed his robe from her shoulders, she slapped him as hard as she could, but nothing would stop his plan.

After throwing her on the bed, Turpin struggled with her. He had the Beadle tie her ankles to the bed with the twine rope he had retrieved from his study minutes beforehand. Out of the corner of his eye, the Judge saw the Beadle’s face beaming with anticipation, while Johanna was screaming. The Judge put his hand over her mouth telling her that she would be punished for being insolent and that to further her humiliation, the Beadle would watch. He held her wrists down, feeling her struggle against him. 

Just as he had fantasized about, Turpin had made sure it hurt her when he entered her for the first time. It even hurt him. He saw her face wince and tears fall down it and felt her body struggling against his. There was no sensual pleasure derived from the act for either party. No, this was him fucking her out of hatred. He likened it to a slavedriver whipping his charges.

When the act was finished, he stayed on top of her and inside her, tracing the lines of her body with his hands. She was still trying to get him off her. He enjoyed watching her struggle. He could hear the Beadle breathing behind him. This wasn’t the first time the Beadle had witnessed him take a woman by forceful means. He had never planned on the Beadle being here to witness the taking of Johanna’s virginity, but it seemed right that he was. After all, the Beadle had heard from the beginning that the Judge had planned on keeping her innocent for as long as possible. He had seen how intrigued his friend was by the proposition.  
When Johanna calmed down, the Judge had the Beadle undo her restraints and he got off of her. The Beadle heeded his request and brought him a bottle of pills and his flask from his bedside table. Sat beside Johanna, he forced her to take two of the pills – sleeping pills – and drink over half the flask. She soon fell asleep, completely dead to the world. He walked the Beadle to the door, thanking him for his services that night. He returned to the room and put the flask, pills, and rope in his bedside table, and laid beside Johanna. She seemed far gone and he couldn’t help but take advantage of examining her body. There were bruises that were already beginning to form, especially on her forearms, and rope burns on her ankles. Her hair was a complete mess, but it made her even more attractive and seductive. 

Putting his hands between her legs, Judge Turpin felt the sticky wetness that was there from his semen. He then went to the bathroom and found the hidden douche he had bought before they married. As he began cleaning her, he saw a small amount of blood flow from her and felt aroused again thinking of how good it had felt being inside of there. Finally, he hid the douche and nuzzled against her feeling her breasts and drifting off to sleep.


	34. A Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna overhears a conversation between the Beadle and her husband. Will it help her to understand what has passed?

When Johanna awoke the next morning, she did not feel in a fog as she had the day before. She still didn’t remember what happened, but she felt more clarity. She looked over her bruises in the mirror. Yes, she thought, the Judge would have had to given me these. As for my ankles, were they tied with something?   
Johanna was still dressed from the day before and descended the stairs, going into their room. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. On entering the parlor, she avoided looking at the door of the study where she had made those terrible and odd discoveries the day before. She forced herself to eat the small meal the maid had brought to her and began reading a book. If she busied herself, perhaps then the memory would come back to her. Or, perhaps, she could make herself forget any of the past events and just continue on with her life. 

The images in the study had frightened her and hadn’t shed any light on the night previous. She had dreamed that the Judge had found her pouring over the list and told her how stupid she was to think that it meant that she was the 93rd woman he had lain with. He had some explanation for what it was that was purely innocent. Johanna knew she could never ask him what the list was about without risking great harm to her person and so she wondered if there was any point in investigating further. Could she live by just telling herself the information on that list pertained to an outside world she was not part of? 

Her attempt at concentrating on her book failed. She kept looking up at the door to the study. The sight of it was incredibly distracting. Finally, she read a sentence where she was unsure of a word’s meaning and entered the study to consult the dictionary. She tried not to look at the Judge’s bookshelf, but after succeeding in her purpose, she casually walked over to it and ran her hands over the papers that were there and then moved them up to the shelf above her head with the books. She rested her hands on the book she knew contained the list. She calmly closed the study door and pulled it down. She turned to the list and looked over the front page. She turned it over and finally arrived at her name again. She started closing the book, but reopened it again. There was an “x” where there had been none the day before. She heard one of the maids pass by the door and she quickly returned the book to the shelf. Grabbing the dictionary, she returned to the parlor.

She spent the afternoon trying to look as if she was doing something. She couldn’t paint because her hands shook and she couldn’t read because her mind kept whirling. She did not feel like sitting at the windows and so she spent the day in a panicked state trying to not think about what she had discovered that morning. When the Judge arrived home, they sat in the parlor together.

“I am glad to see that you appear less feverish today, Johanna.”

“Yes, thank you. I do feel better. More tea?” she said as she tried to evade looking into his eyes and his advancing hands. He prevented her from pouring more tea and sat her next to him, kissing her. She kissed him back and felt herself wanting to scream. 

She broke the kiss as soon as possible and got up to retrieve a book.

“Johanna, you are acting fidgety” he remarked from the couch.

“Am I, dear? I’ve felt like this all day” she said as she stirred the fire. “Perhaps it is…Could we not go to the cottage this weekend?” If she was out of this house, she did not have to think about or be tempted by that room.

“We just went, Johanna.”

“No, that was months ago, for Christmas, remember? The flowers and trees will be coming into bloom now. Oh say we’ll go!” and she sat next to him on the couch, gazing into his face.

“Yes, it would be very pleasant to go there now, but we cannot. I have too much work and I built that garden in the alleyway expressly for that purpose. Perhaps, we can go next weekend.” She knew that meant “no” and gave him a half smile. She made herself calm down and sat by the Judge after dinner, pretending to read, hating the way he circled a finger on her back and occasionally began kissing her.

They finally went up to bed and undressed. The Judge said nothing about the bruises as he helped her unbutton and unlace her dress. As he let her naked form lead him to the bed, he undressed. He kissed her then told her to get on all fours. She did so without argument, but as he began touching her, her every muscle tensed. She couldn’t help but think of all of those images in his books. They weren’t just books. They weren’t books of artwork and culture. They were books filled with perversion. And it was clear from their bent spines and dustless pages, they did not remain on his shelf unused. He still looked at them. As his hands dragged her hips to his, she suddenly felt heinously ill and ran to the restroom. She could not stop throwing up. The Judge did not come in to check on her; she heard the bedroom door open and close. 

Johanna did not bother to get up from the floor of the bathroom and fell asleep there until dawn broke when she felt the hands of the Judge helping her into bed. She saw him getting ready for work as she fell in and out of sleep. She dreamed horrible things and no matter where her dream took her, the Beadle’s face appeared suddenly. Sometimes she dreamed that an invisible force was holding her down, preventing her escape from something horrible.  
When she finally awoke it was midday and she was covered in sweat as if she had had a fever. She took a bath, but did not have the strength to dress. She sat by the unlit fireplace combing out her hair. When she heard the Judge enter the house, she quickly got back into bed. She heard the Beadle’s voice downstairs and the Judge ascending the stairs to their room. Strangely, he stopped outside their door for a moment, but did not enter, deciding instead to return to the parlor. Johanna sighed with relief, but found it odd he did not come in. After dinner, the two men’s voices filled the house. She dressed and crept down the stairs. They were in his study with the door closed. Johanna put her ear to it.

“You have, of course, remained discreet about what took place the other night?”

“My lord, I would never betray your confidence especially in matters of such delicacy.”

“I thought not, Beadle, but a man can so seldom be trustworthy of his fellow humans.”

“I am your friend and servant, your honor, I shall do whatever you wish of me…Tell me how the mistress of the house is. She has not come down to greet us yet as is the custom.”

“No…no, she has not. She has been feverish as of late. Most likely a symptom of not being used to morphine or alcohol.”

“As all proper ladies are not, my lord. I am sure the effects will wear off soon and you two shall be able to resume your happy courtship.”

“Indeed, Beadle. It is odd, Beadle, I am not sure she remembers the event, but no doubt she has seen the bruises and knows something happened but is too afraid to ask.”

“I am sure, my lord, that she is merely being humble after learning her lesson from you. A lady would not quickly forget the taking of her virtue, especially when another man was present to –“

“Yes, thank you, Beadle. As I’ve said your presence the other night was most helpful –“

“Glad to assist, your honor. Glad to tighten the ropes around her pretty little –“

“Beadle! You forget yourself.”

“Yes, your honor. Forgive me, please, my lord. It was only that –“

“No need to explain, Beadle. I am a man and I understand the feelings that must have flowed through your person as you…Let us discuss this no further tonight. Tell me of this case you wish me to adjudicate.”

The two men continued talking, but Johanna didn’t listen. She only stood by the study door feeling ill remembering portions of the conversation: “tighten the ropes,” “not used to morphine or alcohol,” “matters of delicacy,” “bruises,” “taking of her virtue.” She knew she had to get away in case the door opened, but she found herself unable to move her feet. The conversation she had overheard played in her head again and again.

Suddenly, the Judge opened the door.

“Johanna.” She looked up at him confused. “You are finally up, I see.” She stared at him like she didn’t understand the words coming from his mouth.  
“Evening, Mrs. Turpin” The Beadle said from behind the Judge. Johanna saw his face had a knowing smile on it and she couldn’t help but remember how she had seen his leering face in her dreams. She felt faint. She didn’t feel like she knew where she was or how she had come to the front of the study door. “I only came to talk to your honorable husband about official business, but he was kind enough to let me sup with him as well. I have clearly over taxed his and yours gracious hospitality-“

“I am sure you haven’t” she said quietly and numbly.

“I think our business is finished for the day, Beadle. I will see you in court on Tuesday.”

“I will show myself out, my lord. Thank you for your generosity once again.” The Beadle left and grabbed his own hat and coat.

“To bed, Johanna?” the Judge asked as the Beadle closed the front door.

“What?” she said coming out of another daze. The Judge helped her up the stairs and got her dressed for bed. When he joined her, he wrapped his arms around her.


	35. The Cottage (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna goes on an unexpected holiday, but will it be enjoyable for her and the Judge?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rape, non-con elements

“Come, get up, Johanna.” The Judge said stroking her arm. 

The young woman looked up at her husband, who was fully dressed. Daylight was just beginning to creep in through the crack between the shuttered window. 

“We are going to the cottage.”

“We are?” she responded groggily.

“Yes, I have your things already prepared and have acquired a hansom to take us there. You only need to get dressed. I have laid your clothes out on the chair. I will wait downstairs for you with our things.” 

Johanna did as the Judge instructed, wondering why he had changed his mind. She joined him in the cab and sat next to him with her head on his shoulder.

“I thought you said you were too busy this weekend.”

“Yes, well work is of no matter when I can see that my wife needs my attention.” They remained quiet for the time being. When the Judge gauged they had left the city, he rolled the shades of the windows up, smiling at her and holding her more closely to him. Johanna feared he knew she had looked at his books and that she had been eaves dropping, but she tried to mask this by feigning interest in the sites outside her window.

When they reached the cottage, the Judge, as he always did, brought the bags inside and started a fire in the kitchen and living room. He went outside and drew water from the well and asked Johanna to make tea. After breakfast and a walk through the gardens, neither of which Johanna enjoyed, they made their way upstairs. The Judge allowed Johanna to freshen up and then join him in the bed. They kissed and touched each other, lying on their side. Johanna forcing herself to forget the images revolving around in her head and pretending that everything was normal.

As the Judge held her against his stomach so she could feel his eagerness, he calmly asked her, “Johanna, why were you at the door of my study last night? Hmm?” He felt her tense. “I think, Johanna, you were eaves dropping on the Beadle and me.” His grip on her became tighter.

“No, I heard you talking and I waited for you to stop to enter” she stuttered.

“I think, Johanna,” he said as he rolled her onto her back and began straddling her, “you are lying to me.”

“No, I’m not, I – “

“You are lying again. Johanna, do you remember how I punished you the other night for your insolence?” She became quiet. “How you defied a simple request of mine? How you disobeyed me?” he leaned on her more and held her wrists against the bed. 

Johanna was terrified, but she still couldn’t remember all of the events of the night in question; she could only remember the words from the conversation last night. 

“No? Then let me remind you.”

The Judge was still in his undershirt and pants and he pulled out of one his pants pockets a lace glove and held it before her eyes, “Do you remember how I simply asked you to fetch these to show the Beadle and you refused? How you then further humiliated me by going to bed when I kindly asked again?” She whimpered beneath him; a memory was beginning to form. “Or how I entered your room and requested again? How you slapped my face?”  
She was beginning to remember how he entered without knocking, the Beadle sneering and gazing at her lustfully as she stood with only her nightgown on trying to cover herself up and the Judge preventing her from doing so. 

“How I pushed you onto the bed?” he said in his deep and moderate tone, taking both her wrists into one hand and tightening his grip. “How my only trustworthy companion secured your ankles with this?” he asked as he retrieved the twine from the other pocket, dangling it in front of her face, then throwing it to the ground. 

Suddenly, she remembered it all, every disgusting detail. She realized he was unbuttoning his pants. It dawned upon her that he intended to do whatever it was that he had done the night before. The image of the list with the word “fornicate” checked off appeared in her mind. She had to get him off of her.

“I kept your virtuous for as long as I could, my little rosebud. I did everything in my power to make sure you remained a true innocent because you were the most precious and good woman I had ever known. But I realized that night that you were no longer deserving of these accolades. You released me from the spell you had put me under and I felt I no longer had a reason to deny myself a husband’s ultimate right. You will service me in this manner when I wish it, along with any of the other ways I desire. You may in time regain my esteem of you, but you will never blind me again. I am sure you will think on your misguided actions and sins and repent them to God. As for me, I will forgive you when you show me you know the error of your ways. Until then, there will be no pleasures for you, only pain.”

“Please, fath-“

“No, I won’t be turned into a simpering fool again with your manipulative tricks. You must be punished.” 

And so he began to force himself upon her, disregarding Johanna’s screams and pleas. This time, he allowed himself to find sensual pleasure. With the absence of the Beadle, this was much easier to do. 

When the Judge finished, he turned his wife onto her belly, quickly picked the twine up from the floor and tied her wrists to the bed post. He kissed her bottom and left the room, going downstairs to rest and eat.


	36. Betrayed (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna is again confined to her room and yet again she looks for solace in the wrong place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rape, non-con elements, as well as some mutual pleasuring

The Judge was ignorant of Johanna’s knowledge of the books he kept on the top shelf of his study. Had he known, his wrath would have been even more severe. His actions were fueled by his recent reintroduction to true fornication and his need to humiliate and own her. Equally, her lies concerning eavesdropping added to his newfound energy. 

Over the weekend, he had pleased himself by taking her anyway he wished, keeping her tied to the bed, either facing toward him or away, and sometimes with additional rope around her ankles. He had also brought a douche with him and cleaned her out as to prevent the possibility of offspring. Johanna was still very young; there would be time enough for her to produce a male heir. 

Johanna passed in and out consciousness, sometimes screaming and making pleas and sometimes just weeping. Other times, the Judge’s plaything spent her time looking straight ahead and trembling everywhere. 

When the cab came to retrieve them on Monday morning, the Judge helped Johanna into it after forcing her to take a sleeping pill and alcohol only 20 minutes beforehand. When they returned home, he carried the still passed out Johanna up the stairs to her old room and tied her to the bed with a gag around her mouth. The maids were given direct instructions that Johanna was not to be disturbed by anyone except him or the Beadle. His decision was that he would keep her locked up like this for a month or so until she realized his mastery. When this had been achieved, he let her out again. But not until she was contrite.  
On his return from work, the Judge visited her, usually letting her eat something, walk around the room with him, and use the washroom. He made sure she ate and drank. After all, he did not want her to become sickly. When she needed a bath, he bathed her in her tub, his hands passing eagerly over her soapy body. He slowly got her to once again suck and handle him without running into the washroom. 

A little after three weeks, she hesitantly asked, “Would you unshutter the window, please? I know you are – I am not ready to be let free, yet, but I…” she faltered. The Judge scanned her face; it was humble and had a defeated air about it. It reminded him of when Johanna was a little girl and would ask him for something she knew or thought he would refuse her. There was no manipulation present. 

“Of course,” he said as if he fulfilled all her requests, “a rosebud needs sun. But first you must do something for me,” he took her in his arms and she looked at him with wide eyes. 

“Pleasure me as if you were in love with me.”

“But I do love you. Despite of everything…I do.”

“I mean in love with me, as if I were your Prince Charming and you were passionately in need of me.”

“But I have done that before” and she placed her hand near his stiffened member. “When we were first married, I told myself you were my rescuer.” The words sounded pathetic to her not because they were untrue but because she knew that he wasn’t. The Judge was her master, but not her prince.

“Well, my little princess, as you remember, in those first days of our marriage, we did not do the most pleasurable act together. And, as you have indicated, it has been a long time since you unselfishly pleasured me.” 

Johanna was anxious; she felt in her heart she knew what he meant by pleasuring him the way she would someone she was in love with. Despite all of the events in her life, she remained resilient and hopeful and gullible. In her mind, she saw herself kissing a faceless young man and sitting on top of him, smiling down at him, feeling the need to make him know how much she cherished and wanted him. She had very rarely felt this with the Judge and that had only been at the beginning of their union and was certainly not true now.

“You will unlock and unshutter the window and let me look out the window from the bed if I do this for you? And you won’t close it at night or anytime during the day? And you will open the window pane to let in fresh air when I ask?” She did not want him to escape this promise as he had the other one.

“Yes, if you do this act for me, which you haven’t done before: if you lead the passion between us. Seduce me.” A minute of silence passed.

“Let me freshen up by myself first, please? I need to feel clean. I will need to shut the door.”

The Judge thought upon this for a minute. Johanna was clearly determined for the window to be open now and besides there was no lock on the bathroom door anymore and, thus, he assented. Johanna took her bath, washing herself entirely, whilst remembering all the fairy stories of love and chivalry and pretended she was in one. 

When she finished bathing and combing her hair, she joined her husband. Only garbed in a night robe, she felt so exposed. The Judge meanwhile was standing by her dressing table, glancing over her old things, all of which he had bought her. He slowly turned around to look at her. Johanna hesitated before walking over to him and giving him a light kiss upon his lips. She led him over to the bed and they sat at the edge of it. She continued to lightly kiss him, stroking his face and running her hands through his grey hair. She untied his cravat and stroked his neck while she kissed him. She unbuttoned his vest slowly, her hands lingering on his chest. She then stood up, went behind him, and took it off, laying it gently on the bed next to his cravat. Next she began massaging his shoulders.

“How differently you women seduce us men,” the Judge moaned. Johanna lifted his shirt over his head. Her hands felt up and down his back. She had never sat behind the Judge and done this she realized. He had done something like this to her many times. There was never a massage of course, but more than that, she felt her actions had a different tone to them. The Judge’s always felt as if he was a wolf preying upon her.  
Johanna examined his naked back. There were brown spots on it that she had seen from far away before, but never up close. She traced them with her hands and began stroking his chest from behind. After doing this for a few minutes more, Johanna sat in front of the Judge and kissed him on the lips some more. She was still wearing her bathrobe and loosened the knot. With her own shaky hands, she took the Judge’s hands in hers and looked at him head-on. She would have that window opened. 

“Forgive me for not always being the wife you deserve. I know that at times I am selfish and ungrateful of all you’ve given me. I do not intend to be.” She was not fully lying when she said these words. In a sad and pitiful way, she actually felt them. However, she did not say them as she would’ve before with simple sincerity; she said them in an alluring tone that the Judge had never heard from her before. His hands were placed onto her breasts and, while Johanna busied his mouth with ardent kisses.

He watched with eagerness as Johanna sat on the floor to remove his shoes and socks and then undid his trousers, which she carefully removed. Turpin sat above her looking down, only in his knickers. The anticipation of pleasure was almost too much.

Johanna straddled him and let her bathrobe fall to the floor, exposing herself to her husband’s eager eyes. The Judge thought of how there were those times when they were together and Johanna so violently responded to his touch, holding onto him as if he were saving her from drowning. This was not like that. Having her instigate the passion was much better than he imagined it would be. He always knew that she was a passionate creature but never how much so, especially in regards to this.

She gently but forcefully pushed him onto the bed and began kissing him down his chest. He shifted up so his legs would be fully on the bed. She got off him and kissed underneath his navel as she pulled his knickers off. 

She looked up at him, “Shall I?” 

“Please.” 

He felt her soft, warm mouth on his prick. He pressed her head down. When he worried that he would finish he let his hand up. She began moving up him, kissing his chest again. She lay beside him lovingly kissing his neck and face, hands on his chest.

Slowly, she climbed onto him. He saw a look of uncertainty on her face, as if scared of continuing; their eyes met and he saw that she was fearful. She then kissed him harshly with her eyes forcefully closed trying to remember why she was doing this and that she now had him under her control. Johanna lifted herself up more and guided him inside of her. She leaned ontop of him, arms on either side. Her kissing was passionate as were here thrusts. The image of the little Japanese geisha riding the man beneath her flashed into her mind and she sat up. 

She couldn't look at his face, so with determination she gazed at his chest as she continued moving up and down with her hips. The Judge moaned beneath her. To her surprise, she began to feel her body warm to the movement and the spot between her legs moisten. She placed her hands on his chest and rubbed it, getting lost in his hair. Soon she heard herself moan. 

It wasn’t long before they both finished in ecstasy. The Judge the lazily set about stroking Johanna’s hair, thinking how pretty she was as lay beside him still in a daze. Such a wonderful and innocent creature he thought, unlike anyone else who was out in that world. Yes, she had faults, but they were harmless ones. He had to keep her protected from the world out there. Then he remembered his promise to her and was seized with horror.  
“No, the world will not have you” he declared in a panic. And he began to tie her wrists to the bed again. Johanna came out of her daze and looked at him confused. He began putting on shirt and trousers and she asked him what he meant. When he was mostly dressed he firmly said, “I will not let your soul be tarnished by that world out there. The window remains closed. The shutters remain locked.”

“No, no, you promised” she said in disbelief on the verge of crying. “Please just open the shutters, please!”

“No, that world out there is not for you, Johanna, my little rosebud.” Johanna was despondent and heartbroken at what the Judge was saying. She had, for the first time in a long time, felt a connection with him, with a person. True, it had started as a way to get something she wanted, but it ended with her feeling close and trusting to him. Now her stupidity had been thrown in her face again. She begged him as he left and continued to shout her pleas after he left her room and locked the door. The Judge finished dressing and left the house to walk the streets alone; this often gave him security in his decision to confine Johanna to the house.


	37. A Man's Salvation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been over a month since the Judge confined Johanna. Now he is letting her out, but can she ever truly have freedom?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with other parts of this fanfic, inspiration taken from the lyrics of "Johanna (Mea Culpa)

Two weeks later he let her out of her confinement . She hadn’t sulked and pouted after his betrayal. She would lay there with him, feeling subdued and heartbroken. However, Johanna looked to him for comfort because she had no one else. In truth, young woman felt like she was a little girl again, but without hope. She was lonely and unsure and ashamed of herself. She would bury her head in the Judge’s chest after lovemaking just to feel safe about something.  
The Judge locked all the shutters in the house, except for the servants’ (he knew Johanna wouldn’t go there) before he let her out. The morning of her release, he entered her room with a new dress for her, telling her that he was releasing her from her confinement. He untied her and waited for her as she bathed. When she came out, he helped her dress. He noticed that she had lost some weight over the weeks, but surmised that she would soon gain it back. The Judge was unmistakably proud. The dress he picked for her made her fragile frame look even prettier. Moreover, he felt like she was his because of her love of and dependence on him. When he forced himself on her, he felt like he owned her because she feared him. While a large part of him enjoyed this power he gained from seeing and feeling her fear of him, he would then miss the way she was when she was younger and would believe and trust in him. Johanna’s younger self pacified her yearning for the outside world and friends via his company. This would be how it was now with all the windows closed.

He finished buttoning the top button of her dress and he saw a tremble move through her. He turned her around to face him and she began crying on him. He stroked her calling her his little rosebud over and over again. Yes, he was letting her leave this room, he confirmed to her. Eventually, the two made their way downstairs. Their breakfasts were waiting for them in the parlor and the Judge helped her to sit at the small table. He did not see her face when she looked at the windows and realized the shutters were locked; he was busying himself with his coffee. The windows had never all been locked.

“You’ve shuttered the parlor windows” she stated as a lamentable fact.

“Yes, and the ones in my study.” He looked at her face now and read her dejection. She looked away from the windows and him and began busying herself with her breakfast. The Judge grabbed one of her hands, “The outside world shall no longer distress you, Johanna.” She narrowed her eyes at him and then nodded her head, giving him a weak half-smile. The Judge got up to leave for work and Johanna walked him to the door and kissed him goodbye. She saw it was sunny outside. The parlor maid began cleaning up the breakfast and smiled at her as if she hadn’t been locked away in her room for weeks. Johanna went to the Judge’s room. Nothing had changed and yet everything had. She threw herself on the bed and began crying. 

An hour later, she emerged from the bedroom and returned to the parlor, but could not resist entering the study. Yes, these windows were locked too. She then looked up at the books on the shelves. She felt their spines and took the colonial book from the shelf. She looked at the photo of the naked woman and then turned to the list. Except now there were two pieces of paper. The original list and one that said her name at the very top. It was a list of the positions they had fornicated in lately, as well. The entry that caught her attention was the day he made her instigate the passion. He wrote a long entry of how good it had made him feel and how it made him realize that no one else, exceeding the Beadle and the maids and a doctor, would ever see Johanna. He wrote how Johanna was his and knew she should remain here with him, saved from the sins of the wicked. He wrote of how even her contact with the Beadle would be minimized and he would never allow his devious friend to gaze upon her so scantily clad. It ended with:

“By remaining here, Johanna will serve as my salvation.”

While the other statements had made her feel scared and alone, this last sentence made her livid. I am to be your salvation, she thought? I, who you confined for being a sinful creature? I, who you tied up and exposed to your friend’s perverted enjoyment? I, who you forced yourself into to punish me for defying your law? She looked at the original list. I will not be your salvation for the 92 women you slept with out of wedlock, who you probably paid for or forced. 

I will not decay with you in this house.


	38. Flying towards Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna resolves to escape. Will she be able to successfully orchestrate such an endeavor?

With that she took the two obscene lists, crumpled them, and threw them into the unlit fireplace. She looked back at the book still on his desk and on the books on the shelf. She would burn every one of them and leave the house today. 

But how? The Judge wouldn’t be back until dinner. She had to busy the servants. She went downstairs and told them that she would like tonight’s supper to be special. She asked if there was any goose in the house, knowing there wouldn’t be, but from previous experience that it wouldn’t be very difficult for them to find it at the market. This would mean one of the servants would have to go out while the others worked in the kitchen to bake the cake she requested. The servant would be gone just long enough for Johanna to get a bag of clothes and jewelry together and take it down to the study, but short enough for Johanna to escape when everyone was busy in the kitchen. She told them that she was going to be occupied in her room and then would be busy making something for the Judge in his study and was not to be bothered. If they had a question, they could ask her from outside his study. And so Johanna went up the stairs when she saw that the servants were all employed. The servants of course just thought that her behavior was a bit erratic because it was her first day out of confinement; they never conceived that she was planning escape.

After finding her small carpet bag, she began filling it with a few of her most durable dresses and petticoats, along with a coat and two pairs of gloves. She knew she wouldn’t be able to bring much money and thought that if she appeared finely dressed, she might stick out in a crowd. She put her jewelry in her bag as well; she had read a story once of how someone had pawned their jewels, but she wondered if it would look odd for a normal woman to have so much jewelry, so she put some of it back. She would leave the pearls. 

She would also leave this new dress. It was a very finely made dress and she had seen the Judge’s face as he put it in on her. He had been as proud as if he had designed it. No, he would remember what it looked like and if she wore it, the police would surely find her…or the Beadle would. She put on a very ordinary looking blue dress. 

After peeking out her door and seeing that no one was around, she flew down the stairs to the study. She locked the door and looked through his desk drawer for where he kept the money and put it in her purse. And then she saw the gun. She stared at it for a long time wondering if she should take it. Yes, she might not know how to fire it but maybe she could use it to ward someone off. Oddly, she was not scared of what awaited her out that front door, but what awaited her if she did not make this escape. She did not ruminate on the possibilities. 

Johanna then turned to the books. She only had time to burn some of them. The rest she would leave thrown about the room. She had to let him know she knew what sort of a man he was. She lit the fireplace and watched as the two lists burned. She decided she would leave the colonial book untouched, opened on his desk and so she grabbed the other books from the shelf and began tearing pages out of them. Some she carefully placed in the fire and others she scattered throughout the room. She had torn up half of each of these three books when she heard the maid come back from the shops. Johanna tore a few more pages out and then exited the study, closing the door behind her. 

The maids offered her some of the cake from yesterday’s tea for lunch when she visited them. At first, she refused and then realized she might need to bring food with her and accepted a piece. Johanna told them that she would be in the study and she might take a nap there, but she would be out in time for supper. The maids just nodded in ascent, seeing nothing out of the ordinary expect perhaps a more informative and decisive air about their mistress.  
In thirty minutes, she thought, I’ll leave this house forever. Johanna’s eyes rested on the bookshelf. It was now empty of its dirty books, which left her feeling somewhat avenged. Her eyes then darted to the shelves below. The shelf purportedly filled with official documents.

Johanna’s curiosity was to much. She went over to them and glanced over the tabs of paper between the mess of documents. The tabs designated what year the documents were from. It struck her that the papers about her father would be here. 

It took her about 20minutes to find what she was looking for. At first, in vain, she looked in the files that dated from when she was a year old. Her efforts were then directed towards the documents from her birth year. Would the paper concerning her father’s death be in the Judge’s possession? But that had been handled by another judge, hadn’t it? 

With shaky hands, Johanna retrieved what she was looking for. But there was no time to even take a quick glance, much less pour over its important information. It too was tucked away into her carpet bag. With care, Johanna put the other documents back. The circumstances pertaining to this official document were different. Firstly, the warning voice of her guardian echoed in her head: “Johanna, if you ever tamper with these, you will be sent straight to the tower by her majesty.” But even more powerful than the desire to avoid capital punishment was her longing to have this personal information private. Maybe the whole world knew of her father’s devious action or maybe only the Judge knew. It didn’t matter. Johanna felt these papers should be owned and looked at by no one except her. This was the only piece of family history she had. Johanna wasn’t about to have stolen from her. 

The moment had finally arrived. This was never what Johanna had imagined and if she had stopped to reflect, she would’ve been filled with a great sadness. But, thankfully for her own safety, time was passing rapidly. 

As quiet as a mouse, Johanna snuck out of the study. After locking the door with the key she had found in her husband’s desk, she put it in her bag. She then hid her bag by the front door and peeked into the kitchen. All the maids were there and looked quite busy. Now was the moment for flight. 

Her heart raced and she expected the doorbell to ring or the Judge to come home any second, but none of this happened. Johanna put her bonnet on, grabbed her bag, and quietly opened the front door. After looking from side to side to see if anyone she recognized was walking toward the house, she closed the door and walked down the steps. The young woman headed in the opposite direction she remembered the Judge walking home from. She glanced up at the window she used to sit and watch for him at. Those days were gone and hopefully would never return.


	39. Locks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Judge returns home to discover that his most precious possession is gone.

The Judge was in a merry mood today, as he called it. He even granted lighter sentences to some of the thieves before him. He would get to return to his Johanna. She would kiss him at the door, happy he was home. He would watch her prettily eat and pour the tea and read to him. And when they went to bed, he would not have to bother with ropes. They would make passionate love and Johanna would again lead it. How pleased she will be to see that I have gotten a shave and haircut, he thought. Another gift rested in his pocket: a white gold necklace. He thought of how nicely it would rest on her décolletage.

Upon returning home, however, the Judge was disappointed by the absence of Johanna. Why was she not waiting for him in the foyer? 

“She’s been occupying herself in the study my lord. She said she’d come out for dinner” a maid informed him.

The Judge knocked on the study door and tried to open it. 

“Mrs. Turpin may be asleep, my lord.” 

The Judge knocked again and called Johanna’s name. He was starving and decided he would not simper by the door waiting for her and went to the dining table.   
The evening was not going as he planned. Johanna was not showing herself to be worthy of freedom. When he arrived at the dining table, though, he was pleasantly surprised by the arrangement.

“Mrs. Turpin asked for it especially.” The Judge thought perhaps he was being too harsh on her. He took a few sips of his wine and went back to the study. There was still no answer and the door was locked. Maybe she wasn’t in the study, he thought. He went to his bedroom and peered in: there was nothing. She wasn’t in any of the other rooms. He returned to the study angered by her insolence and his hunger. He asked the maid for a key.

“You are the only one with a key to that room, Judge Turpin, sir.” Yes, and it was in the room with Johanna. Why had he not put a peephole in his study? The Judge was livid. He told Johanna that if this was one of her tricks, he would re-confine her to the bedroom. The Judge realized the Beadle would know how to pick a lock and he sent a carriage with a note to his place of residence. The Beadle arrived thirty minutes later. By this time, the Judge was angry and worried. Johanna might possibly be hurt inside the study. Stupid girl to lock the door, but...

“You wrote you needed a lock picked, my lord?”

“Yes, Beadle. Johanna is…playing a game of some sorts. She locked the door and refuses to answer.” His request sounded nonchalant, masking the true panic he felt.

“Ladies are strange, my lord. How inconsiderate of her to do so on the day of her release.” The Judge nodded. After tinkering with it for 10 minutes, the Beadle unlocked the door. 

“Johanna, we have now unlocked the door. If you come out on your own, I will be kinder with your punishment.” He waited. He opened the door and a mass of papers flew up from the ground. As they descended to the ground, the Judge strode in to see embers in the fireplace and a book on desk, but nothing else. Johanna wasn’t there.


	40. New Information (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been two years since Johanna escaped. How has the Judge managed? What is he plotting?

A little over two years had passed and there was still no news of Johanna. Judge Turpin hated her for leaving and thought if she ever came back, he would take her to the asylum to rot. He felt vindicated when he imagined her living on the streets having to wander from man to man to make a living. He imagined that one day he would come across her as a poor waif dressed in rags asking him for charity with her head hung in shame. She would look up and see who she was addressing and beg him for mercy. He would not give it to her.

But he also missed her immensely. The Judge worried about her safety and what would happen to her when a man saw her and was filled with the same untamable lust that he had for her. She would be twenty-one now, but he thought of the little girl Johanna wandering the streets alone and scared. He often felt that if she came back to him, he would forgive her of everything, no questions asked, as long as she promised to stay here forever.

One thing was clear in all of this: Johanna wasn’t in London any longer. If she had been killed, he would’ve known. Whenever the news of an unclaimed female body reached his ears, he went to see it. He had the Beadle on the lookout for her, alive or dead, as well. As for the cottage, he had it watched in case she tried to live there. She could not have just vanished. 

The Beadle joined the Judge every night for supper now, either at the Turpin’s club or home. He helped his friend concentrate on other matters and become reinvested in sending criminals to their deaths or prison for life. The Judge would sometimes go up to Johanna’s room after the Beadle departed and look at her things. He could not believe she had left most of them. Did they mean nothing to her? 

Eventually he became used to not having her in bed, but would still see glimpses of her across the house. He saw her looking out the windows, silhouetted against the light; combing her hair at her dressing table; washing herself in the bath; sleeping next to him in bed; painting with water colors in the parlor; smiling at some unspoken secret.

A question the Judge sometimes wondered was when Johanna had discovered what the books on the top shelf were. In his moments of anger, he told himself that she had always known about them and was a horrid little vixen who only pretended not to know the pleasures of the flesh. Other times he thought that it must have happened the day she left by accident and she was so horrified by what she saw that she left. She was horrified as he had told her to be by filth like that. But before he began blaming himself, he reminded himself that he had told her not to touch that shelf and it was her fault that she discovered these books.  
His time was devoted to joining a man’s club, taking on more cases, and spending time with Beadle. Gradually, the Judge returned to his old haunts. He recommenced using the girls of the street to suck him and the girls of the opium dens to please him. After all he was a man. However, even these pleasurable activities brought him little solace and he never used the girls to the same extant he had prior to marriage. Every part of his body and mind yearned to know where she was, no matter if he was angry at of forgiving of her. 

As the Judge sat at his desk, in the midst of writing his sentence of life-long imprisonment for a boy who had assaulted his employer when the employer found his apprentice absconding with his young daughter to Scotland to elope, the Beadle entered. With great excitement, the greasy man waved a letter in the air before putting it on the Judge’s desk,

“I think this will lift your spirits, my lord.”

“The knowledge that this young man will be rotting in a cell forever, no longer terrorizing men’s daughters is enough joy for me, Beadle” he said drolly as he took the letter. The Beadle just beamed at him. The letter was addressed to the Beadle from someone in Bournemouth. 

Dear Mr. Bamford,  
I think I may have stumbled upon the lady you have been searching for. I have been in Bournemouth with my wife as to improve my health. Last weekend, my wife and I stopped at a perfumery where a lovely shop girl attended us. She was uncommonly pretty and spoke with high English. My suspicions were not alerted because most shop girls affect a higher class accent and are blessed with good looks. However, when she wrote the receipt and signed her name at the bottom, my suspicions were aroused. Like the girl you are searching for the woman spells her name with an “h” and two “n”s: Johanna. The girl was fragile looking with pale skin, blue eyes, and blonde hair, as you described your Johanna to be.  
Her family name was not “Turpin,” but “Christie” Perhaps this is an assumed name. I have been unable to find out about her place of residence, but I am sure you will have no trouble unearthing this information. Here is her place of employment....

 

The Judge stopped reading. He felt joy, but this might not be her. He paced the room as the Beadle looked at him with expectation. Why did that last name seem familiar? 

“Her mother’s family’s name” he suddenly realized.

“It must be her, your honor.”

“Yes, we must away immediately.” 

Turpin and the Beadle quickly went back to his house where they gathered a small bag of the Judge’s clothes together and left for the train station.  
As the two men made their way to Bournemouth, the Judge contemplated what he would do to her. Would he rape her in front of the Beadle? Would he kidnap her? What if she was living with a man? The possibilities of what her crimes might be and what his punishments would be were limitless. The search for her whereabouts would begin tonight.


	41. Reduced Circumstances

In her tiny place of residence, Johanna swept the floor. Her door was left open while she busied herself with cooking and spring cleaning. The sun shone in through the open windows, giving the rather dismal room a light and hopeful atmosphere. 

Yes, Johanna who had once lived in one of the most well-to-do area in London now lived in one room in a building that only possessed one running toilet and stoves that smoked. Even with these diminished circumstances, the young woman found her living situation more accommodating than living with the Judge.   
Johanna put the broom away and concentrated on the soup she was cooking. She was not a very good chef and she didn’t make much money, so she had little choice at the market, but she made do she thought.


	42. Hunting in Bournemouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Judge and his accomplice have begun their exploration of Bournemouth. Will their labors be rewarded?

The Judge and the Beadle had been in Bournemouth for less than a day when they discovered where Johanna Christie lived. Ironically, the information was given to them by one of her friends. The Judge pretended he had to present Johanna with a will and the girl who worked at the cafe across from the perfume shop told him exactly where she lived. Was this not too easy? For two years he had been pining for her and hiring private detectives. And in the end, it was not a hired man who delivered her into his hands, but a git of a girl. 

The two men decided to wait until the next night to retrieve her; they didn’t wish to create a scene at her workplace or in broad daylight. 

Finally, the hour came. Turpin and the Beadle entered the apartment building where they were told Johanna lived. They had found a carriage driver who would take no notice if one of his passengers was not pleased with their party’s destination; he waited for them in front of the building. The Judge and Beadle snuck up to the third floor where there was only one room. The door was ajar and the two men snuck inside to see a small woman cleaning dishes with her back turned toward the door, carelessly humming. 

The Judge knew it was not his Johanna.

A woman nearing her forties turned around, “Are you here about letting the room?”

After extensive bribing, the woman answered his questions about the previous tenant: Joana Christy. She said the young lady had left this morning in a hurry giving no forwarding address. There was something more that the Judge knew the woman wasn’t telling her. Finally after handing the woman more money, she revealed that the previous tenant had not been alone in her travels.


	43. To Manchester (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna narrowly escaped Turpin's clutches. Who is her traveling companion and how has she earned a living? Where will she go now?

Johanna played out in her mind what would have happened if her friend had not forewarned her.

 

_She imagined the Judge and Beadle entering her open door – she often liked to leave it open during the spring and summer. She would be cooking and facing away from the door, but the Judge would know it was her. He would be imagining something to humiliate her: having her in front of the Beadle. She imagined turning around and her face falling._

_“What are you doing here?”_

_“I might ask you the same question, Johanna. I hoped that it wasn’t possible that my Johanna had spent two years away from me, her husband, on her on accord but it looks as if she has. I feel my heart breaking again.”_

_“You have no heart.” The Beadle would smirk at her._

_“Johanna, I will not spare the rod this time. You are returning to London with us. If you do so unwillingly, you will only create a scene. I have the right of the law on my side, my little wife. If –“ To his surprise, she would step forward. “So the outside world is not as unforgiving as you thought it was?”_

_She would not answer. She would grab the carpetbag that was resting against the wall, walk over to the wardrobe and put clothes from it into the bag. He would most likely find the ease with which she surrendered unbearable. He would stand behind her and grab her delicate wrists._

_“I’m packing as quickly as I can.” He would push her against the wall next to the wardrobe, holding her arms._

_“You humiliated me, Johanna. And I will have my vengeance. Beadle.” The Beadle would walk forward with his usual mock humility. The Beadle would give the Judge his cane and the Judge would release the sword on it. “I will whip you as I should have done more often when you were a child.” She would very quietly ask him not to. Her silence would only anger him. The Beadle would help him to bend her over the table and hold her arms. The Judge would lift her skirts and pull down her knickers. He would begin switching her, but she would refuse to scream, biting her lower lip until it bled._

_He would put his hands on her bruised and bleeding bottom and hear her cry out. He would begin unbuttoning his pants. Suddenly, there would be a noise from behind the partition. The Beadle would have heard it, as well, and the Judge would nod for him to inspect it. Johanna would try to get up and he would hear she was anxiously breathing. “Yes, my little rosebud” she imagined him whispering in her ear, “your lover behind that curtain, we’ll take away his pretty face.”_

_The Beadle would open the partition and step inside, remarking “Well, my, my, what have we here?” To the Judge’s astonishment the Beadle would walk out carrying a toddler, “It’s alright, little sir, I won’t harm you.” The little boy would be crying. In the Judge’s shock, he would loosen his grip on Johanna and feel her escape him and see her rush to the little boy, taking him away from the Judge’s lackey and hugging him closely to her person._

_The Judge would recover from his shock and leer down at them. Johanna would be stroking the boy’s blond hair and softly reassuring him._

_“Yes, yes, of course everything is fine. We are going to take a trip to the city with the big clock.”_

_The Judge would see how much the little boy looked like her with his blonde hair and blue eyes. He would see that was why she hadn’t screamed. She would get up and walk into the partition straight past the Beadle and emerge less than a minute later with a toy and blanket. She would not be able to look at the Judge’s face which would surely be filled with anger. She would fill the rest of the carpet bag. The Beadle would be waiting in anticipation for the Judge to tell him to grab the child or scare Johanna; that was his way. She would close the carpet bag and bend down to pick up her son, grabbing the carpetbag off the top of the wardrobe and finally look at the Judge’s face with a look of surrender and plea for peace._

_She saw the Judge sending the Beadle down to prepare the carriage and summoning Johanna forward and looking at the little boy in her arms who would now be hiding his face. He would feel like he was master of her again. She would gasp as he stroked the boys head and tremble as he kissed her and stroked her thigh. He would take her bag and let her lead the way out. In the carriage, the Judge would sit next Johanna, who would tighten her hold of their son. They would not go to the train station because the Judge would correctly fear that Johanna would try to escape in the large crowd. When they arrived “home,” he would have the boy taken up to Johanna’s old room by one the servants. Then he would try to punish her, failing to realize that for Johanna the worst had already happened: their son was brought into this house._

 

But this hadn’t happened. Georgiana had run to her door that morning just as Johanna was leaving to have the landlady take care of Arthur. Georgiana told Johanna how her idiotic sister had told two men – one taller and the other shorter – where she was after they said Johanna had inherited money.  
Her friend helped her pack quickly and watched Arthur as Johanna paid the landlady her rent and extra for silence. Johanna and Arthur boarded a train to Manchester. 

How had they found her, she wondered as the train rumbled through lush green countryside and dark, dirty cities. Johanna had told both girls that her real name was Johanna Christie, but Georgiana’s sister was stupid, not mean, and G did not do this. G was the only person she told that she was not in fact a widow, but was rather an escapee of a horrible marriage; G was a widow, but had been married to a sailor who hit her and drank. Neither woman talked about their husbands or what had happened, but they understood each other.

She had used her pseudonym – Joana Christy –without incident for two years. From the document she stole from the Judge’s office, she had learned her parents’ full names: Lucy (nee Christie) Barker and Benjamin Barker. Beyond that, however, there was virtually nothing about the case. The document said where Mr. Barker had been arrested in London and how it was for causing public disturbances in a bar and having unpaid fines. There was nothing about her mother’s death and nothing about the sentence he received. She concluded that the Judge must have kept the files on sentencing somewhere else. 

She signed all of her documents “Joana Christy” now and when people asked how to spell her name, she gave that answer. She signed all her receipts at the perfume shop that way. So how? The answer finally came to her after a nightmare-filled nap on the train: that receipt for that man and his wife five days prior. She felt like an idiot. Was it a coincidence that he knew the Judge…or did he know the Beadle? Johanna knew she would not make that mistake again or go by any variation of that name. 

A persistent question Johanna was "what would happen if she returned to him with their son as a peace offering?" Would the Judge be pleased? Would he be angry that there was someone who earned more of her affection? Would he take him away from her? When she discovered she was expecting a child, she felt she had made the right decision to leave, despite not having very much money or any friends. As she sat at the table with the other women sewing (how she earned money when she first escaped), panic would engulf her. What if she had a baby girl? They would both be sentenced to a life of solitude if the Judge found Johanna. Wouldn’t be better for her to give up the baby if it were a girl to prevent this possibility? 

But luckily it hadn’t been a girl. It had been a healthy baby boy. Of course, this came with its own set of problems if the Judge ever found her. He didn’t like boys, she knew this. He might send the child away from her and put her into permanent confinement. He might swear not to do this, but since they had been married, he rarely kept his promises. 

When she watched Arthur sleep at night, she would think on these things. She had contemplated leaving the country, perhaps going to America. But Arthur seemed too small to make the journey and she knew no one there. Then again, she had known no one in Oxford or Bournemouth. At least, she would know someone in Manchester: G’s cousin. May ran a small girls school and needed instructors. With a letter from G, Johanna hoped that May would give her some sort of employment, even if it was just as a servant. G had come up with a new name for Johanna – Josephine Charger. It was a rather awful name, but it was close enough to her “real” name for Johanna to remember it and far enough from her real name to shield her. 

If Johanna could not get a job in Manchester, then she would search for employment as a shop girl again. She had learned that she made an inadequate seamstress. And factory managers wouldn’t hire her, although she wasn’t too put out by this when she saw the state of health that most workers were in. She had to keep herself well for Arthur’s sake. If she died, then he would be given to the Judge. One night, soon after Arthur's birth, she forced herself to write a letter detailing who she really was in case an accident happened. It was kept hidden in a box with other safe documents. The young woman prayed to God it would never need to be used.


	44. Guilt and Acknowledgement (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judge Turpin reflects upon how he came to love Johanna, his rape of Lucy, and his own nature.

It was a rare circumstance when Judge Turpin reflected upon his own sins. Perhaps, over a lifetime, he had been compelled to do this five times. However, as he sat in his study, he was forced to do just that.

The day had been one of unexpected and undesired surprises. First, a fellow judge reversed his ruling. The doubtlessly guilty man had been set free. Never again would Turpin sit in that judge’s company. 

Even more distressing had been what followed after. When Turpin exited the courthouse, he had seen a woman. A woman, who from behind, looked like Johanna. His heart had leapt with joy. Could it really be she? Of course, he was sorely disappointed when the lady promptly turned around. The girl wasn’t even nearly as becoming. 

As he walked home alone, all he noticed were pretty women and young couples walking gaily along the street. The Judge returned to an empty house filled with objects that reminded him of Johanna. Before him were the vases that she used to put flowers in, the sewing box she used to keep buttons and needles in, and the art set she used to paint with. All these memory laden objects lay right in his view just on the first floor. Needless to say, upstairs it was even worse. There was no room in the house that allowed him to escape her memory. His solitude got the better of him and he went to his study to drank. The Judge rarely indulged in something as self-pitying as this, but he seemed unable to do anything else.

He now sat at his desk after four brandies, reflecting on those women he had loved or would have loved if they had just let him. Somehow each one had inexplicably vanished. That’s what Johanna had done. She had broken his heart just like her mother had, he thought. What did women want from men? He gave her a home and love and gifts and security from the outside world, but she had left him without even a note. How could she be so ungrateful and hurt him so when he had cherished her for 19 years? He would have given Lucy all of those things if she had stayed.

He then thought of Johanna’s countenance when he had taken her to the cottage after deflowering her. It had been so fearful of him. And when he told her he would never open the window, she looked as if her heart had been rent in two. But didn’t she understand that it was the duty of a wife to weather the storm of her husband’s moods and needs? And that, furthermore, these moods and needs were not a result of hysteria, but reason and, thus, were done for her own good? After all, he was not an unforgiving, drunkard of a man who would use a club or his giant fists to hit his wife. He loved her and would never seriously harm her.

Perhaps, Turpin thought, he had made the mistake of letting her read all those fairy stories. It had filled her head up with nonsense about the world outside her window and the nature of men. No man could measure up to the outright goodness of those princes. What she hadn’t realized was that those princes no doubt had their fair share of mistresses and did not act so princely in the bedroom. 

His hope had been that Shakespeare’s and the Greeks’ dramas would temper these fantasies. If she saw the levels to which humans depraved themselves – murder, incest, revolution, betrayal, war, adultery – then she would not be so questioning his judgment when he was her father or husband. These dramas were meant to prevent her from wanting to wander the world. He had believed that she would see that men who appeared noble and bright, like Othello, were easily turned into murderers; or that when young people disobeyed their parents, as Romeo and Juliet had, they not only caused devastation in their own lives, but in the lives of many others; or how despicable the common people could act in times of trouble, as in Coriolanus. He had never let her read the comedies and certainly never let her read The Tempest (what had Prospero been thinking when he gave his daughter to that young fool?), although she had begged after that conversation with the young boy. But this concentration on the ills of the world had not worked apparently. Well, he gathered, she certainly will be discovering them now.

The Judge never allowed himself to reflect on Lucy, but he now found himself doing so. What he did was criminal, he knew that, but why had she refused all his attempts? Stupid woman. He remembered how badly he wanted her, how she mocked him with her beauty and loveliness, glancing down at him through her window. He surely would have been a better husband for her than that naïve, impoverished barber. As a man with undeniable clout, he could have easily secured her a divorce from that young fool, especially considering the duration and location of his prison sentence. But, instead, she had made him appear as an ass. Like a heartsick school boy, he had stood outside her rooms with flowers every day. 

When Turpin had first set eyes upon her from afar in the market, she had seemed to him like a ray of sunlight beaming down on the earth on a cold, snowy winters day; the light was beautiful to look at and bask in and made the chill air feel more bearable and heavenly, as if she were an angel. Yet as soon as he began advancing on her, it was as if a cloud had moved in front of and obstructed the warming, enchanting glow. The Judge would only ever see her in that window looking down at him. She had her groceries brought to her by some neighbor, who also gave her his bouquets. Oh how earnestly he pined for her. How simple and wonderful her life would have been if she had just given him a smile from that window or let him in.

Thus, when he finally had her in his grasp and heard those people laughing at her, it was vengeance for all of those embarrassing moments. It had felt so wonderful to finally be with her and feel her breasts and cunt. Afterwards, when his guests left, the elation dwindled. He remembered how she ran from the house completely disoriented, dress in tatters; how he saw her dead body marked with scratches from his nails covering her arms in the city morgue, next to tens of bodies belonging to mere mortals. She looked so lovely on the inquisition table that the Judge could not help but feel a twinge of regret for treating her so, and thus he had taken Lucy’s little girl to be his. There was no one else to take care of her. Would this act not assuage him of any wrong doing?

Many brandies in, the middle-aged man thought of how he had brought Johanna home and hired a nurse for her till she was around 4. He would sometimes go in and see the child, surprised at how much she had grown and what new thing she could do. When she started being able to form complete sentences and understand what he was saying, he visited on a daily basis, though never for very long. He would kiss her on top of her head as she sat next to him, trying to remember to sit up straight, and then he would give her a piece of candy or a ribbon and she would say, “Thank you, father” and he would leave. 

And then that incident with the storm had happened and their relationship changed. He had gotten rid of the nurse, seeing that Johanna was more independent and the maids did not mind taking care of his young charge. Her governess only came during the day, so the child had had no one to tell her about storms. He remembered one thunderous night hearing his door open, looking up, and seeing Johanna peer in wide eyed and then start crying. He was perplexed and thought of ringing for the housekeeper to come and see what the matter with her was, but he knew that Ms. Foster would not be pleased to be woken from her slumber at this late of hour. So, instead, he went over to her and picked her up. He sat with her on his knee and finally realized what the problem was when a clap of thunder made her begin crying even louder and holding onto him more tightly. He had never really hugged Johanna he had realized and he was surprised at how fulfilling it was to have her little hands locked around him and to put his fingers through her curls in an attempt to soothe her. Suddenly she wasn’t just this tiny person who lived in his house. Suddenly, he wanted to protect her and buy her things to make her happy. When he woke up the next morning, Johanna was playing with the buttons on his vest and carelessly humming. He cleared his throat and she looked up at him and made to start getting off him and leaving saying “sorry, father,” but to her surprise he lifted her off him, took her hand, and walked with her to her room, telling her that she was to get dressed and then come down to breakfast with him. She asked him to help her get dressed and then they went down to breakfast together, him having to hold onto her hand tightly as to prevent her from running down the stairs in pure excitement. She told him how she didn’t like eating breakfast by herself so she normally ate with Marguerite (“who is Marguerite?” “My doll”) who didn’t like raspberry scones but loved porridge. She didn’t stop talking till they reached the table and he was beginning to regret his decision of having her eat with him, but as soon as he helped her into the chair she stopped rambling and waited patiently for the maids to bring her breakfast and for him to speak. She didn’t eat with her mouth open or continue talking about herself, but asked him questions about himself and what he did everyday. When he finished breakfast, he kissed her on top of her head and went upstairs to get changed. To his surprise, when he came downstairs, she was sitting at the bottom of the stairs to kiss him goodbye before he went to work (“in the house across the street, the man’s wife always does that at the door and since you don’t have a wife…”). Thus began their rituals.

And now Johanna had left him with nothing. No little girl to hug and no woman to gaze at. All his rituals had had to change and he felt bereft. What sort of man was she with now? No doubt some young man who didn’t really love her and only wanted her for her bewitching body. It had now been four years and he felt he would never get her back. He was in his sixties and in good health, but how depressing it was not to have a pretty wife to look at in this late stage in his life. He had given his youth to the law, protecting justice and punishing sins, and this was how God repaid him? Even the Beadle, to the Judge’s chagrin, had married. Mrs. Bamford was by no means beautiful or even pretty, but she had an allure. He could see that. She had a London girl allure and her coarser ways were sure to complement the Beadle’s equally coarse and theatrical ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know plot chance and major character death. I wanted Lucy's death to serve as a major motivator for Johanna's adoption


	45. New Struggles and Worries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What has Johanna been doing in Manchester? How did she make a living after escaping? What impression has the world of men left on her? And are any suitor's calling?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter with a very clear nod towards Dickens, particularly Bleak House's Mr. Guppy. As well, a nod to North & South.

Johanna or Jo, as all her friends now called her, had indeed been fortunate enough to receive a position at May Gallagher’s school for girls. She began by being a second teacher to May, helping with disorderly conduct and assisting with revision. Soon, Johanna was allowed to instruct students on her own. Despite not having a teaching degree or experience as a governess, May paid her well enough to live modestly at the school with Arthur. Only a few of the girls lived at the school, the rest were from Manchester and walked to school everyday. Johanna worked mostly with the 8-14 years old and helped teach them how to do artistic things (both the more practical and aesthetic artistic activities), as well as improve their reading level. 

Now being able to read all of Shakespeare’s works, she used his sonnets, dramas, and comedies in the classroom. She often found herself having to bite her tongue from encouraging girls to be rebellious, as she now felt she had been. Johanna knew she could not encourage them to question their parents, so she tried to focus on getting them to want better lives and more for their children. Teaching health and nutrition was a large part of the curriculum at the school since many of the girls came from poor families. Some of her pupils had already worked in factories and would occasionally enter coughing fits due to the cotton spores or smoke trapped in their lungs.

Regardless, Johanna enjoyed her job. She had never thought of becoming a governess or a teacher, but she found that after the initial shyness wore off, she was quite good at it. She was much better at it than she had been at being a seamstress. She remembered how she had bought a black dress the day after she left the Judge’s house and went to Oxford to find a job, having heard from a fellow train passenger that there was a need for light manual labor workers. Her tale was that her husband, Mr. Christy, had died a month before, leaving her penniless. Johanna remembered how many places turned her away. Then, one day, someone suggested she go to a ladies millner. It was there that she was first employed. A few months later she realized she was pregnant.   
There were other ladies who worked there who had children. If the children were under two years old, their presence on the work floor was tolerated. If they were older, that had to be able to work. This gave Johanna hope. She did not have to fear her employer would let her go. However, she had heard how in Bournemouth she might be able to locate a better position as a shop girl due to her looks and accent. 

A few months after she had Arthur, she made the journey to Bournemouth. With surprising ease, she found the position at the perfumery. Going from working as a seamstress to working as a shop girl was like a dream come true. Of course, there were always difficult people and husbands who would look at her with the same hunger in their eyes as the Judge had, but she did not have to strain her eyes looking at a hem or sit in an uncomfortable chair for hours.   
Despite moving from a city considered the new capital of health and leisure in England to the biggest industrial center in England, she and Arthur remained healthy. He had colds from time to time but nothing to suggest to her that they needed to move. 

And while Johanna had found that most men were not as venal as the Judge led on, but that it may have been better to avoid them completely. After she began casting off her mourning clothes, which had to be done to acquire a position in a shop, she noticed how some men would look at her and begin speaking to her. Yes, there were some men that were easily categorized as the type a woman should not approach or get involved with (the crude, gruff ones, the ones as charming as a snake, the ones as boastful as a king). Of course, it wasn’t long before stories about infamously disreputable men filled her ears. Adding to this, for the first time, Johanna began reading Jane Austen and the Brontes. From these novels, she gleaned knowledge pertaining to the types of men who swept women off their feet, like Wickham and Willoughby, but were scoundrels. But, then again, there were good men, like Mr. Darcy and Colonel Brandon. What she hadn’t learned about were the men who acted like puppy dogs, as the women called them. 

While in Bournemouth, she had befriended a young man, Mr. Chester Lawrence, who worked at a local law office as a clerk and shopped at a grocers she frequented. He was not handsome, having rather huge eyes, but he was a great reader like her and they sometimes saw each other at the library or an outdoor concert. He was friendly with Arthur, as well. Johanna would smile and talk to him, never saying anything highly personal to him, but enjoying his company when it was offered. She knew so few people. As to how she was affecting him she was innocent. She knew nothing of how he viewed her as an angel. Equally, Johanna had no idea that he would sometimes stand outside her window at night and gaze up at it in hopes of seeing her face or her silhouette. So when he invited her to his uncle and aunt’s house for lunch one afternoon and his relatives returned to the house leaving a sleeping Arthur, contented Johanna, and eager Mr. Lawrence alone in the garden, she thought nothing of it. As she looked at Mrs. Lawrence’s roses, Chester began speaking to her of the future and how he hoped to gain a more advantageous position soon.

“I am very glad of it, Mr. Lawrence.”

“Please, call me Chester.”

“I am very pleased to hear that, Chester. Your aunt and uncle must surely be proud of you.”

“Yes, but are you proud of me? I mean, it is only a higher clerk position.”

“I am sure you worked very hard to attain it. It cannot be easy to move up in a profession so rife with competition” she looked up from the roses and smiled at him. Suddenly he bent down on one knee.

“Oh, Mrs. Christy, Joanna, please, say you’ll be mine! I will do anything you want me to!”

“Mr. Lawrence get up, please, you have forgotten yourself! What are you about?” Johanna replied horrified, half thinking this was some sort of awful joke. But Chester would not get up.

“Oh, please, think on it. I shall love you and little Arthur so much. You will be well provided for. I have saved enough money to buy a home and you can decorate it however you like. You do not even have to love me as much as I love you! Just please be mine!”

Johanna looked down at him startled. “Mr. Lawrence, I think of you as a friend”

“You could think of me differently, surely. Just give it time” Johanna shuttered thinking of where she had heard that phrase before. “Am I that repulsive to you?”  
Realizing that Chester had seen the shudder and thought it was intended for him, Johanna felt worse.

“No, you are not Mr. Lawrence, I am sorry. Please, let us sit at the table, you must be very uncomfortable kneeling on that wet grass.” 

Johanna made her way to the table and her poor friend sat across from her. She felt like one of the heroines in Ms. Austen’s books. 

“Mr. Lawrence, I have enjoyed our acquaintance and I am sorry if I gave you the impression that I wanted anything more than friendship…Mr. Lawrence, my marriage to Mr. Christy was not an entirely happy one and while I am sure you are completely different from him, I have no wish at this time to enter into marriage again.”

“You may someday, though. I will wait for you.”

“No, please do not, Mr. Lawrence. I will not cruelly make you wait for something that will never happen.”

“Never?”

“Yes, never. You are a good man and you have what is sure to be a brilliant career in front of you. There are many other young girls who would be glad to marry you and make you happy. I have found that marriage does not suit me, Mr. Lawrence. Please forgive me.”

“ Well, I suppose I must…There isn’t someone else is there?”

“No, there is no one else. I think I had better go. Please thank your aunt and uncle for their generous hospitality and thank you for…Goodbye.” She picked up Arthur, who was still asleep, and made her way to the garden gate. As she began opening it, Mr. Lawrence unexpectedly and quite meanly said,

“You may want to reconsider mocking us men with your smiles in the future. It’s unbecoming of a lady. And allowing us to walk with you on the pier. Eventually it will get around that you’re a terrible flirt. I made no error, but you most certainly did.” Johanna was astonished to hear this from her friend and opened her mouth to defend herself, but decided it was better to do nothing. 

Since then, she had tried to avoid making friendships with men or having much contact with them. She did not cower from them or affect complete meekness, but she made her interactions very businesslike as to avoid any confusion on their part. Men must interpret things differently, she suspected. Perhaps men only did want one thing, but there were definitely men, as she had seen from visiting married friends’ homes, who were more loving than the Judge.  
Working at the school gave her little interaction with men, which pleased her greatly, although, she did worry about Arthur growing up amongst only women, but eventually he would have to go to school and would become aware of the world of men. This of course gave her some panic seeing as the world of men so far had appeared on the whole to be filled with egotists. She spoke with May often on this subject. Despite being very attractive, May had never wished to marry. The older woman thought that the best way to prevent little Arthur from becoming self-important or cruel or any mixture of the evils that seemed to plague the male world especially was to make sure he understood from a young age that ladies were people as well, who had thoughts and feelings of their own. Miss May, like Johanna had to bite her tongue from saying more revolutionary things to the girls for fear of the whole school being shut down.


	46. A Return to London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some months have passed and Johanna has new concerns. Will they force her into contacting Turpin?

“Yes, I’m afraid that the fever did cause some hearing loss, especially in the right ear” Doctor Montgomery lamented. “You might consider taking him to a hearing specialist. But you will need to move to a less industrialized city; the smog and rain are the reasons for your sons continual colds and coughs. The fever has also weakened his heart. Living in a more-”

“Where? Are there any in Bournemouth?”

“No, not for children. London, certain cities in the Americas, Switzerland, Germany, the coast of France is where you will find schools or professionals that deal in this area…these places are not asylums. However, you might consider staying in Bournemouth for a spell before crossing so that Arthur can gain his strength back and then take the journey. Obviously, France, Switzerland, and Germany will have the best resorts.”

Johanna put a hand to her forehead and rubbed it. Arthur had just recovered from scarlet fever when she started noticing that he was not returning to all of his normal activities. He was weakened from the fever and there was concern of a relapse. The illness began a year ago and had climaxed into this. He was five now meaning Johanna was 25, but still living on meager sums. 

What was she going to do? She had long ago pawned her jewelry and she had spent much of the money she had saved from teaching and completing the odd portrait to pay for his other doctor’s visits and a nurse. She thought she might have enough money to get to the continent, but perhaps not enough to pay for a specialist and a decent place to live. When she arrived, she could try to teach English or work as a seamstress again, but with no friends and only the ability to read and write French, how could she survive? Then again, how could Arthur survive in this city of smog? Briefly she had a mind to send the Judge a telegram. Would he come and collect her, paying no attention to his son’s condition? Johanna supposed she could telegram him from the continent if she was forced. It would be difficult to force a person to London from Germany. But she knew in her heart that while contacting the Judge might be beneficial in the short term, in the long term it would never work. Eventually, he would take her back to the house and never let her leave and send Arthur to a school or a sanatorium away from her. She had to protect him for that lonely life. Whatever her decision, the doctor said very crudely that she had a choice of whether to pay for a coffin or boat tickets. 

As Johanna made her way with Arthur on train to south-eastern side of England to board a ship that would take them to the coast of France, his condition worsened almost immediately. A coughing fit erupted and the boy started getting a fever once again. By the time the train reached London, he was very ill. People on the train stared at her and she could tell they wanted her off. Arthur was having a hard time breathing from the train’s exhaust and was beginning to turn very pale. Johanna knew he couldn’t take the journey anymore. Had she waited too long or not long enough? When the train conductor said that they had reached London, she grabbed their carpetbags and they got off. 

“If memory serves me right,” she commented to her son, “there are a number of inns located near this train station.”

With Arthur’s hand held tightly in her own, Johanna set off to find one of the cheaper accommodations. Finally, she was rewarded after visiting two different inns. The young woman settled on an inn over a tavern. As the owner took her to their room, she asked him to fetch a doctor for her. With promise of extra money, he agreed. Her finances were dwindling. She had decided on the train that she would sell her hair.

Johanna laid Arthur down on the bed and wetted a washcloth from her bag to clean his face. Then the owner returned with a kettle and one clearly overused piece of china. 

“I called for a doctor. I normally don’t allow sick people to stay at my inn” he said standing near Johanna as she poured the hot water into the cup, “but I don’t like to turn pretty women away.” Johanna glanced up and saw the smug smile on his face. She felt that at any minute he was going to reach out and touch her. She took the cup and moved toward Arthur trying not to show how disgusted she was.

“Well, thank you for having pity on my son and me. We are very thankful.”

“Not at all, not at all. It is the charitable and Christian thing surely. Your husband, will he be joining you?”

“I’m a widow” she said automatically. She should have said yes, he’s a very jealous marine officer, she thought.

“Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry. How rude of me. I hope you’ll forgive me. What’s wrong with the little man?” he asked coming to stand behind the chair Johanna was sitting in next to the bed. She could tell that he was looking down her dress. This is the price you pay for staying at such a cheap hotel, she thought.  
“Just a cold and fever” she replied rapidly. She could hear the man’s heavy breathing behind her and smell a strong odor of gin. She was scared if she got up he would bump into her “by accident” and try to handle her, but she was equally scared that if she stayed seated he would allow his hands to fall upon her shoulders and descend further down her body “by accident.” 

The appearance of the doctor, however, prevented this. The inn keeper left as the physician began examining Arthur. Johanna nervously told the doctor about the scarlet fever and the deafness and her doctor’s suggestion. 

“He’s quite right I think, but your son will have to stay here for some time. Make sure he stays warm and drinks plenty of fluids. Don’t let him inhale too much smoke from that chimney. I’ll come see you in two days, does that sound good?”

“Yes, I don’t have any money to pay you right now, but I will soon.”

“Do not trouble yourself. I do a lot of my work for virtually nothing.” She looked at the physician and realized that he was probably only a few years older than herself. He was good looking despite having clothes that clearly needed sewing and bags under his eyes. 

“Dr. Woodcourt, please let me pay back some of the money by fixing your coat and any of your other clothes that need mending.”

He chuckled, Johanna realized he looked even better when he smiled, “Yes, well, alright. I won’t say no considering that my clothes really do need it. I’ll bring some when I return. Good day.” He left and Johanna sat in the bleak room with Arthur quietly singing to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the real reason for the Bleak House tag begins!


	47. Stirrings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Woodcourt makes an appearance again and Johanna's reserve begins to slip.

The owner of the inn did not make an appearance till the next morning. In contrast with the prior day’s manner, he appeared almost completely sober. He came into the room to deliver her breakfast wearing what Johanna assumed were his Sunday best.

“So is the little chap doing any better today?” 

“Yes, thank you his fever has gone down. Thank you for locating a good doctor for me.”

“Dr. Woodcourt is famous for his generosity in this part of London. It cannot be easy being a pretty, vulnerable woman in this city with a child to take care of alone. Your finances must be tight.” Johanna could not believe that this was happening. The man was old enough to be her father and had a huge belly that he would occasionally absent-mindedly rub with one of his hands. He hadn’t even been able to make it up the stairs yesterday without huffing and puffing and was clearly a friend of gin. Here she was with a sick child and the man was propositioning her for a relationship. She wondered if she looked like a fast woman or if she still exuded innocence. “I’m a widower, as well, Mrs.Charger. It is a sad business to be lonely isn’t it?” 

Was that what it was that he was experiencing? Or was it really just lust? She looked at his face; he reminded her of a lost puppy. She felt sorry for him suddenly and a bit ashamed of her own quick judgments. He clearly was trying to appear at his best, but either had no idea at the impropriety of attracting a woman while her child was sick or thought being empathetic during this crucial time was the only way to gain her sympathies. She had to set him straight before this developed into anything else. 

“Yes,” she began cautiously, “but my work and my son keep me from ever feeling truly lonely, Mr. Gowan.”

“Your work?”

“I’m a teacher or was a teacher in Manchester. At an all girls’ school.” 

“Were you, hmmm” Johanna saw his interest wane. There was something about a woman being a school teacher that many men did not like. Perhaps because it meant she was educated. “Well, I suppose a woman has to…hmmmm”

“Thank you for bringing breakfast, Mr. Gowan. I shall tell you if I need anything more.” He grumbled and left the room looking dejected. Johanna covered her mouth to stop herself from laughing and looked down at Arthur.

“Well that worked better than expected.”

Dr. Woodcourt came the next day and was pleased to see that Arthur was better. He was sitting up and looking around and silently playing with a toy soldier. His throat hurt too much to speak, but he would nod or shake his head when the doctor asked him a question.

“Yes, he does look better, but my opinion that he should stay awhile stands. It might be a good idea, however, to find more suitable lodgings in London if you can.”

“I wouldn’t know where to start and, of course, there’s the issue of money.”

“Have you no friends here? Is this your first time in London?”

“No, I’ve never been here before. I don’t know anyone who lives here” she lied gazing into the fire. Turning to face him, she asked with a smile, “Did you bring anything for me to mend?”

He laughed, “Yes, but I’m almost ashamed to give them to you. They probably shouldn’t even be worn anymore.”

“Nonsense, I had a pair of shoes that I wore until 2 months ago when the soles of them actually came off while I was teaching. All the girls found it quite humorous” she laughed and then looked away from him not believing she had just admitted that.

“Were you a teacher, Mrs. Charger?”

“Yes, I taught at an all girls school in Manchester” she replied trying to resume her impersonal air. They then smiled awkwardly at each other. “Would you care for some tea, Dr. Woodcourt?”

“No, unfortunately, I should be going. I’ve left the bag of clothes just over there. Please don’t do them if you don’t wish to.”

“I’ll see, Dr. Woodcourt. Thank you.” The doctor made his goodbyes and left.


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the perspective of the doctor, Allan sets about finding new lodgings for Johanna and Arthur.

Dr. Allan Woodcourt was determined to find Mrs. Charger better lodgings. Firstly, her little boy needed to reside in a place with less smog and smoke. Secondly, he didn’t like the way that inn keeper looked at the boy’s mother. The doctor had noticed it when the man came into the room that first time he met her. Yes, the inn keeper had a hungry glint in his eye. 

As Allan made his home from his third visit with her, he carried the bag of his clothes she had mended for him. Who of his good friends were either naturally charitable or owed him a favor, he pondered. He then remembered Ms. Sims. She was a kindly spinster with a three bedroom house. She sometimes rented a room out and, as far as he could remember, currently had no lodgers. At least she lived in a slightly better part of town and didn’t have smoking fireplaces.

When he returned to the inn three days later, he was excited to give Mrs. Charger the news. Ms. Sims was going to let her stay for free for a few weeks until the boy showed marked sign of improvements.

“You’ve found a new place for us to live? But why did you spend your time doing that?”

He smiled, “I don’t like the idea of one of my patients not recovering simply because of their environment. Mind you, it’s still the city, but a slightly nicer part of the city and is not near the train tracks.”

“It’s not near Hyde Park, is it?”

“No, I’m afraid not” he said surprised to see Mrs. Charger let out a sigh of relief.


	49. In His City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna sets up house in London once again and struggles to remain a stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ms. Lacreevy from Nicholas Nickleby makes an appearance.

Johanna examined the doctor’s face as they sat by the fireplace. He had found new lodgings for her. Did he expect other things of her? Or was this merely a doctor caring for his patient? She determined that the latter was so. Dr. Woodcourt appeared to be a genuinely philanthropic person. Perhaps he did like her a bit, but it was not the same as Mr. Lawrence or the inn keeper or her husband. 

“Dr. Woodcourt, I don’t know how to thank you. You’ve done too much. You will not even allow me to promise to pay you back.” Woodcourt shook his head, kindly dismissing her praise.

“Do you have enough money on hand to pay the inn keeper? If so, we can depart now.”

“Yes, I should” she replied still in shock.   
_______________

Ms. Lacreevy’s home was indeed better than the inn and its owner much more hospitable. Ms. Lacreevy was in her 40s and a compulsive knitter and figurine collector, as well as a talented portraitist. Arthur enjoyed laughing at the figurines of farm animals and angels that were so lovingly put in their room. Johanna had to remind him it wasn’t kind to do so, despite the fact that she had to stifle hers as well. 

Johanna had not had to venture out of the house much yet, which set many of her worries as ease, but she knew she was in his city and both he and the Beadle had spies everywhere. She still contemplated selling her hair since it would make her less recognizable. Her nightmares were filled with visions of the Judge or the Beadle finding her and Arthur. Sometimes, they would abscond with only her and sometimes they would steal Arthur from her. When her nights were tainted with these dreams, she compulsively went around the house relocking the doors and windows.

Ms. Lacreevy’s company was enjoyable and Johanna could tell she was one of those happy people who rarely worried about the harsh realities of the world, though she had been affected by them. This made Johanna wary of dispensing any personal information incase her new friend accidentally told one of her customers or neighbors. To Ms. Lacreevy, Mrs. Charger was simply a former school teacher, hailing from Manchester, who had a sick son and was an equally good painter as was Ms. Lacreevy, but refused to do portraiture currently. Of course, Johanna had considered working for Ms. Lacreevy, but fretted that she would meet someone who knew either of her enemies. 

Instead, Johanna helped her landlady around the house while Arthur napped. Ms. Lacreevy said she had never had a cleaner house, but stopped Johanna from cooking due to her less than skilled attempts at it. Johanna found that while Ms. Lacreevy was not as intellectual as was May, she was a more affable companion. Johanna missed Manchester, however. She wrote to May to say that she and Arthur had had to stop in London and would continue on with their journey when his health allowed it.

Dr. Woodcourt often visited for tea or supper to see Arthur, but also to converse with Johanna. Johanna knew she should dissuade him and conduct herself with greater reserve, but she had an extremely difficult time doing so. She could not be glib with him when he had been so generous and she could not be aloof when his conversation was so intriguing. She found herself attracted to him and she gathered that he was attracted to her. After he would leave, she would think about things he had said to her and smile like a fool; she would then berate herself and promise that she would pretend to be completely boring the next time he should visit. However, Johanna either forgot her promise by the next time or found herself unable to stick to it. She had made sure to tell him no personal information about herself; she did not suspect him of being careless with information or the type of person who would be friends with her husband or his cronies, but one could not be too careful and she had no wish to burden this already strained man. They talked of the school she worked at in Manchester, their various ideas of helping the poor, the books they loved, and Dr. Woodcourt’s childhood in Wales. He correctly intuited that Josephine had no wish to discuss her young life and so he did not badger her into giving any details about it.

The other problem for Johanna was that Arthur was becoming very fond of Dr. Woodcourt. Arthur, like most of Johanna’s friends, excepting G, thought that Mr. Charger, her husband, was dead. She worried that Arthur was going to become attached to their new friend. This would make moving to Bournemouth or the continent even more difficult. She also worried that he would begin to see the young doctor as a father and want Johanna to marry him. Johanna knew that besides the concern for Arthur’s ultimate recovery, she could not remain in London because she would inevitably run into people from her past. However, just as she could not deny herself the company of her new friend, she could not deny Arthur it either. But she always made sure to call him a good doctor and friend in front of Arthur so that he did not think she had any romantic intentions in regards to him, but who knew what children thought.


	50. Lovelorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna has been living in London for eight months while Arthur has been recovering. How will she protect her heart from becoming too attached to a certain young man?

The young woman and her son had been living at Ms. Lacreevy's for eight months and it appeared that Arthur was almost well enough to be moved. He had adapted to having reduced hearing capabilities, but Johanna still wanted to have him see a specialist to see if anything further could be done. She repaid Ms. Lacreevy by doing the household chores and working at her business by finishing up more elaborate portraits for her or painting the portraits of children whose parents brought them in. Arthur sometimes talked to the children who were having their portrait done or waiting for their parents to be done. She had worried that because he had grown up around other children at the school and parks in Manchester, he would be extremely lonely during these months of solitude. However, while he was lonely, he enjoyed talking to her and her new adult friends and playing by himself. He had always enjoyed talking to adults, which she supposed in his current condition was a good thing. But she didn’t want him to grow up being secluded from children. Thus, when his health improved, she allowed him to come downstairs to talk to the customers and their young charges who would wander in from the streets to look at the pictures. When the weather was fine, she allowed him to play outside for a bit as long as he promised to stay within her viewing range of the parlor window.

It was Johanna’s belief that in two months time, they could move. First, they would go to Bournemouth where Arthur could get more sun before making a longer boat journey. She did not want to stay in Bournemouth long incase anyone she knew was still looking for her there. She could tell that this move was going to be very hard for Arthur. He asked her why they had to move at all and told her that he felt fine. His questions would then veer towards the young doctor. In his innocence, Arthur would ask, “Why could Dr. Woodcourt not accompany them?”

Despite Johanna’s attempts to ensure that Arthur did not think of the young doctor as anything more than a skilled, generous physician and good friend, Arthur had begun to think of him as a possible father figure. One day as Johanna was tucking him in, he asked her if widows could remarry to which she answered yes. Then he asked if she planned on marrying anyone soon. Of course, she said, “no,” but this did not stop Arthur’s questions. He asked about his dead father (a question which Johanna always replied to with “Yes, I loved him. He was involved with legal proceedings, but I don’t really know what he did. I am sad that he is dead, but we have each other”) and if Dr. Woodcourt was married. He never asked why she couldn’t marry him or wouldn’t he make a good father, but she could tell that that was what he was edging at.

Thus, Johanna had determined two weeks ago to be less gregarious with Dr. Woodcourt and thus far she had been able to keep her promise, though it hurt her greatly. In the past month he hadn’t visited as often because he had other clients and Arthur’s improved health, but his visits were generally longer now. She could tell that the past few times he had visited he had been off put by her curt, more generic responses and aloof attitude. “What if he should think me ungrateful?” she wondered. But her head responded, “What else are you to do to protect Arthur? To protect yourself? To protect Dr. Woodcourt? To protect your heart?” 

One night, a month into her plan, as Ms. Lacreevy was cleaning the pudding dishes, and Dr. Woodcourt and she were putting away the pieces from a board game they had just played, he looked at her and said,  
“I haven’t done anything to anger you, have I Mrs. Charger?”

“No,” she replied dismissively, “What would make you think that?”

“Well, it’s just that you seem to have changed around me suddenly. I thought perhaps I had done or said something to anger you.”

“No, Dr. Woodcourt, you have been nothing but kindness. I’m sorry if my attitude appears to have changed; I think I am just preoccupied with the work at the portrait gallery and the thought of moving soon” she said and took the board game from his hands to return it to the closet, avoiding eye contact with him.  
“You know, I think that a short spell in Bournemouth or Brighton will do wonders for the boy, but I don’t think going all the way to the continent is necessary.”  
“Really?” she asked coming back into the parlor and busying herself with tidying up, refusing to look at him.

“Yes, I think perhaps that the suburbs might do just as well and would obviously be less expensive than a health spa in France or Switzerland. When he first arrived and was so sick and unused to the loss of his hearing, I agreed with your Manchester physician, but now with him becoming more accustomed to the loss and his health quickly regaining, I don’t think a life spent living in a spa will do him any good. And in regards to a hearing specialist, I have the card from a friend who is one. He would be happy to see Arthur anytime.”

“Oh, thank you, Dr. Woodcourt. I shall look into that. I suppose I can think more about the suburbs or the continent when Arthur and I arrive in Bournemouth, but to be honest I do not care for London very much. You and Ms. Lacreevy have been the best friends anyone could have, but I do not feel that London and I agree. I shall be glad to leave it.” 

Dr. Woodcourt did not respond and Johanna finally looked up to see him. She could tell that she had hurt his feelings with that especially callous last statement.   
“I only mean I shall be glad to leave because it means that Arthur is better and I won’t have to worry about him playing in the streets and getting some new infection or inhaling copious amounts of dirt and smog. He’ll be able to play outside more in Bournemouth or in southern France…I will not be glad to leave the new friends I have made. It is what has made this entire eight months bearable and even enjoyable.”

“Do you mean that Mrs. Charger? Because if you do, there is something I wish to-“ Suddenly, Ms. Lacreevy walked in.

“My, my it’s late. I suppose we should all be heading to bed.”

“Yes, I quite agree, Ms. Lacreevy” Johanna said quickly. “Thank you for stopping by Dr. Woodcourt” she nodded and smiled at him then quickly went upstairs. She hated how rude she had been and she hated the look of loss she had read on his face when she had so cavalierly dismissed her time here and just now. Yes, the sooner they left the better. Had he been going to propose to her tonight? She desperately hoped not, but what else would he be wishing to ask her. Johanna looked over at Arthur sleeping soundly and got into bed with him, beginning to cry.


	51. Another Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot moves along now with an actual occurrence. Johanna and Arthur's lives may be at risk.

Two weeks passed and Johanna hardly saw Dr. Woodcourt at all. He stopped by several times to look in on Arthur, but did not stay for tea or supper. Ms. Lacreevy was sorely put out, but equated it to his dedication to the medical field. Johanna knew it was more than that; she saw how he avoided eye contact with her and while not unkind, was brusque. She knew that it was for the best, but lamented the loss of their conversations. 

Her 26th birthday was the following week and she knew Ms. Lacreevy was planning something. Ms. Lacreevy had canoodled Johanna into telling her her birth date and since she was telling so many other lies, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to keep them all straight if she told another one. Between this time and her birthday, Ms. Lacreevy was very secretive about her affairs. Johanna begged her to do nothing and told her it truly wasn’t important, but she didn’t think Ms. Lacreevy got the message. Because Ms. Lacreevy had no children and no pets, she celebrated her friends’ birthdays with zeal, as Mrs. Black told Johanna. Johanna worried Ms. Lacreevy would spend more money than she should (which would technically be any money considering how low the room and board she provided were), but she never expected what the reality was. 

Ms. Lacreevy was very excited as she sat everyone at the table and from the looks on Mrs. Black’s, Mr. Black’s, and even Dr. Woodcourt’s face throughout the meal they all knew something the guest of honor didn’t. After Johanna took Arthur up to bed and came down for coffee and a game of bridge, Ms. Lacreevy deemed it appropriate to reveal the secret.

“Mrs. Charger, as you know, is twenty-something today. I won’t reveal her true age since I know how all women hate for people to know it, but suffice it to say, that she is still young enough to be considered in the bloom of her twenties” Mrs. Lacreevy said cheerfully. Johanna could tell everyone was staring at her, even Dr. Woodcourt whose pleasantness had returned tenfold tonight. “My dear, you are so lovely, which I know everyone in this room will concur with, that I could not help but draw your portrait. I know you did not want me to, but here it is.” She handed Johanna a hand-drawn sketch of herself that was incredibly good and underneath read “A Lady in the Blossom of her Twenties” and her name written in smaller letters below.

“I think you have improved my looks Ms. Lacreevy. It is very lovely. Thank you.”

“Nonsense, my dear, you are more beautiful than that portrait of you. However, I will agree that it is one of my best and clearly I’m not alone in thinking this.” Johanna looked around the room and smiled, feeling very awkward and wishing desperately that Dr. Woodcourt was not here. “You see, I took it to a friend of mine three days ago because I wanted a copy of my own to keep, but when he saw it, he was enchanted. He begged me to let him make some copies of it my dear, and I could not refuse.”

“What do you mean make copies?” Johanna asked fearfully.

“I mean make copies to sell in several storefronts. They’ve been selling for two days now in four shops across London. My friend said he might have to make more at the rate they were selling!”

“You mean that people have been buying and seeing these likenesses of me in all different parts of London…even in the well-to-do stores?”  
“Yes, my dear, but, oh what’s wrong, you look as if you are going to faint.”

“I…I don’t have the luxury of time to faint” she said standing up. She felt dreadfully ill, but Johanna knew she didn’t have time to dillydally. Whether the Judge or the Beadle or one of her former housemaids had seen the photo yet was questionable, but inevitably one of those groups of people would and they would track it to here. “Excuse me,” she said as she exited the parlor and made her way up the stairs to her room. 

She knew she was being rude, but right now she felt as if she could scream at Ms. Lacreevy. She started gathering their clothes and throwing them into their two pieces of luggage. Luckily, she had some cash at hand. Johana would send money to the doctor and Ms. Lacreevy later, but right now she just needed to worry about leaving this place. Luckily, they hadn’t brought much with them and so she quickly finished.

“Arthur, Arthur, wake up. We’re going on an adventure, but you need to get up now. I’ve set some clothes out for you” she said lightly shaking his shoulder. He didn’t want to get up, but she promised that she would buy him candy if he did. As he groggily got up and began getting dressed behind the screen, there was a knock at her door.

“Mrs. Charger, Josephine?” she heard the doctor ask. She opened the door. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, thank you. Just preoccupied.”

“Ms. Lacreevy is sorry if she’s called you any sort of grievance over the issue but I can assure you she meant no –“ he caught sight of their packed bags. His tone changed, “You’re leaving because of this?” he asked angrily holding up a copy of the portrait. “I know I have no right to tell you what to do, but Ms. Lacreevy has been very generous to you and to just leave-“

“You’re right, Dr. Woodcourt, you have no right to tell me what to do. You can judge me as you like. Please be aware that I will send recompense to both of you as soon as I can. The money I have now I need for a cab” she turned from him and saw Arthur come out behind the partition fully dressed in his warmest clothes. 

Johanna put a hat on him and then put one on herself, sweeping up her hair to cover it and pulling down the veil to cover most of her face. She then picked Arthur and their bags up.

Dr. Woodcourt protested, “You can’t just leave like this, Mrs. Charger. He’s not ready to go. It’s nearing midnight. Where will you go? Just wait till tomorrow morning.” 

“I’m sorry to be rude, but I am leaving tonight” and she lightly pushed passed him. Johanna went down the stairs and heard Ms. Lacreevy yell after her as the young woman opened the door and exited through it. As she walked down the street and hailed a cab, she shook her head to get the tears out of her eyes.


	52. Chapter 52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ms. Lacreevy, Woodcourt, and the other guests are left in complete confusion after Johanna's swift flight. To add to their surprise, two new guests come knocking.

An hour later, the Blacks, Doctor Woodcourt, and Ms. Lacreevy were still all in the parlor. Mrs. Black had busied herself with cleaning the dishes so that her friend would not. Mr. Black was sitting in an armchair feeling highly awkward and occasionally espousing reasons why the young girl could have left so suddenly. Meanwhile, the Doctor helped make sure Ms. Lacreevy did not fall into complete shambles. After she had recovered from the initial shock, he stood near the fire, occasionally going back over to the couch to see how she was fairing. 

Woodcourt was terribly angry at Josephine. He could think of no excuse for her inconsiderate behavior. He understood being unfriendly to him if she didn’t want him to think of them as anything more than friends or even acquaintances, but being rude to Ms. Lacreevy? The woman who had given her a good home to live in for 8 months and befriended her? Perhaps she was wrong to let a printer sell portraits of her without her consent, but she did not deserve this. There was a knock at the door. Was it Josephine returning?

Mr. Black wanting for something to do, answered the door. Two men waited at the parlor entrance: a tall man with grey hair and a short, fat one with greasy hair. 

“Ms. Lacreevy, there are two men here who need to speak with you” Mr. Black said as he sat near her. Ms Lacreevy looked up and saw the men, she stood up and beckoned them over with her hand.

“Yes, gentlemen?” she said meekly.

“You are Ms. Lacreevy, the portraitist?” the tall one asked, smiling down at her.

“Yes, I am and who may you be?”

The doctor saw that the man did not wish to reveal his identity, “I am a customer of the print shop you used to print this” he unfolded the sketch of Josephine.  
“Why yes I am. Is there something wrong with it?”

“No, my dear lady,” the short one spoke up, “We were only wondering if you happened to know anything about the lovely young lady’s whose portrait this is.”  
“Well, yes, I do know something about Mrs. Charger. She is a tenant of mine or rather was.”

“Was?” asked the tall man. 

The doctor strode over to Ms. Lacreevy. “And who may we ask is inquiring about the lady?”

The tall man looked down at him and his face turned from one of humility to one of disdain. “It is immaterial who is asking. It is enough for you to know that I am an interested party and am a very high ranking official in our law system.”

“I don’t think giving us your name is too much to ask since you are a guest in Ms. Lacreevy's home and are asking about a friend of ours.”

“And who may you be?”

“Doctor Allan Woodcourt. Now you two are required to give yours.”

“Ms. Lacreevy, my dear lady, if you could just tell us where the young lady is, we would be most obliged” said the short one who pulled out a bag of money from his pockets.

“The young lady left two days ago, sir. We do not know where she went or why she went, do we Ms. Lacreevy?” she nodded. “Now, if you don’t mind, you will kindly tell us your names or leave.”

The tall man stepped forward and looked down at him saying mildly threateningly, “So this is the way it will be…Mark me, if we find you are lying, you will regret it. Your reasons for protecting her whether they are innocuous or not, which I highly doubt they are, are immaterial to me; the punishment for all parties involved will be the same” he stepped back and the two men made for the door. 

As the short one reached the parlor entrance he said,  
“Strange to be having a birthday cake on the lady’s birthday if she left two days ago. Goodnight.” 

They heard the front door slam and a carriage drive off. Mrs. Black came in and asked what all the noise was, but all three just stood in utter confusion.


	53. A Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woodcourt learns of who the two unwelcome visitors were and meets a new acquaintance who may be able to help him in assisting Johanna.

Dr. Woodcourt had spent the last few days trying to find out who the two mysterious men were. He was finally able to connect one piece of the puzzle when he saw the shorter one in the market. Woodoucrt hid behind a cart and asked the owner if he was acquainted with the greasy fellow.

“Well, of course, that’s Beadle Bamford. He’s a public health official. You don’t want to get involved with him, gov, he’s best friends with Judge Turpin.”

Allan had heard that name before. Judge Turpin was infamous for being unjust. Poor people feared the so-called justice he would pass. Allan snuck into the courthouse and waited for court to be over to catch a glimpse of him. He espied a tall figure with grey hair leaving and a lawyer confirmed that that was indeed Judge Turpin. Now the doctor had to discover why they were looking for Josephine. Had she committed some crime? Was this man her uncle or grandfather? He would have to find someone who knew the story. Possibly one of Turpin’s maids if he paid her?

It turned out that he did not have to work that hard. While visiting Ms. Lacreevy, her friend, Mrs. Todd, who owned the wonderful barber’s and infamously terrible pie shops pulled him aside. 

“Judge Turpin visited here a few days ago?”

“Yes. Ms. Lacreevy told you?”

“Yes, but I’m sure you don’t know why he visited. I dare say she doesn’t. She’s unlikely to remember the little history of my…never mind”

“What do you know, Mrs. Todd?”

“Well, all I will say is that I think that pretty girl in the portrait is not really named Mrs. Josephine Charger, but Mrs. Johanna Turpin. Judge Turpin’s one time ward and runaway wife.”

“His wife? But he must be at least 40 years older than her!”

“Yes, love. As you’ve probably figured out, he’s not a good man to cross. Be wary of him. He’s not afraid to send men to prison for trumped up charges. Mr. Todd and I are particularly unfond of him, so if you need help, tell us. I’ve told Ms. Lacreevy not to speak of her to anyone.”

Allan thanked Mrs. Todd and left the house feeling utterly shocked. So that’s why Josephine had been so upset, because she was secretly here, hiding from him, Judge Tuprin. He wondered if any of the things she told him were true. Then he remembered how the Judge had said nothing about Arthur. Perhaps he did not know about him. Perhaps Arthur wasn’t his, Allan thought with a sinking feeling. Would he ever see Josephine again, he wondered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, major plot change in regards to Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett. They have married and do not turn customers into pies. More on their stories later


	54. Searching High and Low

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Judge begins his exhaustive search for Johanna.

Again, the Beadle had been very helpful to the Judge. It didn’t matter that Ms. Lacreevy wouldn’t talk because her neighbors would. They told the Beadle that a young woman, a widow, had lived there and had a small son named Arthur who was recovering from scarlet fever. They said that other than that they didn’t know much. The young widow had been very quiet and didn’t go out much. Occasionally she did a portrait. 

The Beadle had then found out from children who lived near the house that the boy was almost 6 and had told them that his mother and he were from Manchester and would probably move to Bournemouth and then to somewhere on the continent. The Judge knew she would change her name again and probably the boy’s name, as well, but it would be easier to locate a woman traveling with a child than one without. He did not exactly care if the boy was his or not; if it wasn’t his, then he could get rid of it; if it was, he could be further enraged that she stole his son from him.

Turpin used his unscrupulous contacts to find out that in Manchester his wife had been a teacher at an all girls’ school and only moved for the boy’s health. It seemed unlikely she would move back there, but he had a few “friends” keep a weather eye open. He also had someone keep watch over the doctor and Ms. Lacreevy. They might receive a message from her or try and find her as well. He certainly did not trust that doctor after he found out how much time he spent over at Ms. Lacreevy's.

The Beadle once again telegrammed his friend in Bournemouth, the one who had identified Johanna nearly 7 years ago, to keep a lookout for her. The Judge himself planned a trip to the continent trying to speculate where Johanna would most likely be. He wanted her back and he would get her back.  
He decided first upon the coast of France. That seemed to be the place Johanna would most likely flee to with its spas and warm climate. He also hired a detective to go to Switzerland. The Judge scoured the spas and resorts and hotels of southern France asking if a woman and little boy had stayed recently. He brought copies of Johanna’s portrait with him and left them with the various spa owners, telling them he would reward them for their help. He received no positive news from Switzerland. He speculated that Italy might be the next best place. 

He and the detective worked for months through Italy searching for her, but came up with nothing. Where had she gotten to? The Judge was exhausted and needed time to think of other options, so he rented out a small villa where he could easily be reached if there was any news. He sent the detective to Germany. Turpin hardly knew what he would do to Johanna when he found her. Force himself onto her repeatedly was an obvious. But he wanted her to feel the humiliation he had felt thus far, especially now since he had trekked across Europe like a fool looking for her. Perhaps he would have her in front of people just as he had had her mother. However, Johanna wouldn’t be given the chance to kill herself. As for that boy, the Judge would send him to some spa or resort or hospital away from her. That, he knew, would break her heart.


	55. Adapting yet Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out where Johanna has moved to and how her heart is coping.

Johanna had not gone to Bournemouth at all, but to Brighton, where from she took a ship to Lisbon, Portugal. She sold her hair to get money for the passage, started wearing a small pair of spectacles, and changed her name to Mrs. Ellen Bronson and Arthur’s to Cornelius Bronson (she let Arthur pick his new first name). She told him that they had to pick new names and leave the country because of his health and that one always picked a new name when leaving the country. 

For about an hour, Johanna had considered conceding to the Judge and asking for forgiveness, but she knew deep down that what would await her would still be awful. For the time being, Portugal would do. She had thought that the Judge would most likely look for her in the grand tour places of the continent. Thus, she picked Portugal, which had an affable climate for Arthur and inexpensive rates for rooms. Of course, the language barrier was a problem, as was the fact that they were not Catholic. In Manchester, Arthur, May, and she would go to a small church as to keep up appearances with the locals. Here she started doing the same. They could not receive communion, ofcourse, not that she cared from any religious standpoint, but they could go to church and receive some medical help from the nuns. Thus far she had been able to make money working at a seamstress’ shop. However, it wasn’t much work and she was hesitant to begin portrait drawing incase she wasted time and money on paints to create something no one would buy. As well there was the possibility of the Judge hearing about an English woman painting in Portugal. It was unlikely, but it now seemed as if any of the bad thoughts her mind concocted were plausible. Of course, she told herself, the Judge may never have even found out about the portrait; you may be living like an escaped convict for nothing. Yet she thought this unlikely with the Beadle’s eagle eyes.

Johanna forced herself to not think of her most recent stay in London. She felt bad for the way she had left things. She wanted to write a letter to Ms. Lacreevy explaining her departure and thanking her. However, she did not have the money yet to pay her landlady and friend back for the generosity she received. In her heart, Johanna knew that a letter would be more important to Ms. Lacreevy, but the young woman had no heart to write it. 

And then there was the doctor. She knew she had been falling in love with him and that it would hurt to leave him, but with the suddenness of the departure and the manner in which she spoke to him as she departed, the pain was greater. She smiled and laughed in front of Arthur, but she couldn’t stop herself from crying when he fell asleep and she lay next to him in bed feeling as if she had lost a huge part of herself forever.


	56. The Barber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allan Woodcourt meets with an interested party and learns of Johanna's, the Judge's, and Lucy's pasts.

Allan had forced himself to continue on with his life. Yes, he loved Josephine – no, Johanna – and yes he was desperately worried about her husband finding her when Turpin was so famous for his inability to temper justice with mercy. Unlike the Judge, however, he did not have a disposable income that allowed him to traverse Europe. The doctor barely had enough money to pay for his room and board much less a trip to France. There was a similarity between the men though. Like the Judge, the doctor too had contacts and several friends in the law and government professions. These friends were keeping an eye open for Turpin’s return and any odd movements of the Beadle. 

Perhaps one of the most surprising developments was Mr. Todd’s interest in the case. Sometimes Allan would see the disheveled man on the street and the two would simply nod at each other. Other times, the barber would approach him and ask if he had had any news. There was no doubt in the doctor’s mind that Mr. Todd despised Judge Turpin. The barber could not even say the man’s name without sneering. 

Finally, Allan persuaded Mr. Todd to tell him why he was so interested in the case besides his hatred of the man. They sat inside Mrs. Lovett’s deserted pie shop.

“A long time ago, I was friends with the barber who owned the shop I now work in. His name was Barker, Benjamin Barker. He was a foolishly optimistic man” he said with what sounded like embittered hatred. He continued in a more moderate tone, “My friend had a very beautiful wife named Lucy and a little baby girl.”

“What happened, Mr. Todd? How is Judge Turpin involved in their lives?”

“You are not a naïve man, Dr. Woodcourt. You’ve had to struggle your way to become a physician and have not taken the easy road, only treating those who can pay you, but perhaps you are not fully aware of the deviousness of men…Do you know what a man like Judge Turpin thinks when he sees a pretty woman? When he saw Lucy one day in the market? Like the rest of us he can admire her beauty and take note of it, but it does not seem he is able to admire from afar, as most civilized men – no let me rephrase that- as you and I would in regards to a married woman or what one hopes we would do…He had the Beadle arrest my friend on some trumped up charge and sentenced him to life in prison in Australia, thus leaving his pretty, virtuous, and young wife alone.”  
“Surely, the Judge could not have just sent a man to prison for nothing, Mr. Todd.”

“You’d be surprised…No, Benjamin Barker had an outstanding fee of three pounds at a bar. The Judge then managed to bribe the bar owner to say that Mr. Barker had stolen things from other patrons and caused brawls, all of which I can assure you are lies. There was never a more stupidly trusting and weak man in existence. So all for the sum of 3 pounds, the Judge sentenced Mr. Barker to a lifelong hell in a godless country away from his beloved wife and child.” Mr. Todd stopped as if reflecting on something awful, his face blackening.

“What happened next, my friend?”

“Benjamin Barker eventually died in prison from heartbreak or malnutrition or both. His wife…Her loveliness was the reason for the Judge’s perverted actions. That lecher of a man stood across the street from what is now my shop and propositioned the young lady nearly everyday with flowers, but she would never come down and see him. She glanced at him from her window, but that was it. She even had the groceries brought to the house so that she did not have to risk meeting him, yet still he stood looking up at her.” 

“Surely he must have understood why she wouldn’t come down to meet him, the man who sentenced her husband to a life of servitude.”

“No, he clearly did not. Pious, sanctimonious men never do understand things like that…He soon tired of taking the supposedly gentlemanly route. Eventually, he turned back to his true nature to get possession of what he craved. He had the Beadle approach her one night and beg her to join him at his house. The Beadle told the trusting, virtuous woman that the Judge was devastatingly sorry and wished to help her and her child…It was all a lie, of course.” The doctor could tell that whatever was coming next was unpleasant. He allowed his friend time to recollect his thoughts and regain his strength. Finally, Mr. Todd continued slowly, “When she arrived at his home, it was not as she expected. Instead of the Judge waiting for her alone and grieved in his parlor or study or dining room, she was pushed into a house filled with people all wearing masks and drinking. Her innocence prevented her from seeing the Judge’s plan…She drank and wandered the party in search of him. She found him or, rather, he found her…By that time, she had fallen into his trap. He took her right there in the middle of the room in front of everyone.”

“Surely, you must be…no…people would not be so uncaring”

 

“Yes,” he replied harshly, “People are that uncaring. No one took mercy on the poor woman screaming underneath the grips of that pious man. In fact, they laughed at her. That is the sort of people this world is made of.” The men sat in silence until Allan felt courageous enough the ask Mr. Todd to continue.

“What happened to the lady and her child next?”

“As a physician, what has been your experience with women who have not only had their hearts broken but have lost their ability to reason?” Allan knew exactly what the barber meant. He had thought it as soon as he was told of the woman’s defilement and his face showed it. “Yes, that was her fate. Arsenic…Arsenic because a demon couldn’t find some whore who would suit his needs better.”

“What happened to the baby?” 

Mr. Todd took another extended pause, “He took her.”

“And did what with her?”

Mr. Todd looked him in the eye, “Raised her as his own and then forced her to marry him.”

“Johanna” Allan managed to say, breaking eye contact with the Judge. He got up from his seat and looked out of the dingy store window. “He must be stopped. He can’t find her. We have to help her.”

“Yes, I know. I must protect her for at least my friend’s sake and while I gather she understands the Judge is not a merciful man, I don’t think the young girl knows of her family history and the depths to which the Judge will sink to to satisfy his needs. I’ve wasted these years here in this shop, ruminating on the evils of the Judge but doing nothing because the young lady appeared to be safe away from him. I’ve let my wife tell me my obsession with the Judge was pointless. But this is no longer the case…She does not like my renewed interest in the history of the Barkers.”

“But she is the one who told me who the girl was and told me you would be willing to help.”

“Yes, I told her to do that. She knows that once this obsession of mine is settled, I will be able to live again and will move with her to some cheerier place, perhaps by the sea.”

“What can we do? I have no idea where she is.”

“You have must have some idea.”

“My friends in the law offices who know Judge Turpin have told me that he’s checked all the places I would have looked: France, Switzerland, Italy, Germany. I do not think she would have gone to America; the journey is too long and the weather throughout most of the country is less than ideal for recovering one’s health. The Iberian Peninsula would be my next guess, but that would take some time to traverse with the amount of habitable sunny and warm areas.”  
“I fear we must bide our time then. However, be assured I will be keeping an open eye out for the Judge. I may even journey to the continent to do so…At one time, I considered- “ he stopped.

“What, Mr. Todd?”

“Let us just say, I have traveled the world, Dr. Woodcourt, I know the evils that resides in the souls of most men. We, or I, may have to degrade ourselves to his level.”

Dr. Woodcourt did not wish to think of what his friend meant exactly. Mr. Todd sometimes seemed to be disturbed in both mind and soul; clearly embittered by the many wrongs of the world and the circumstances of the Barker’s downfall. His mind, Allan thought, then was more attuned to thinking upon the cleverer and effective ways of enacting revenge, whereas the doctor’s was more attuned to trying to solve problems and better people’s lives. In all, the meeting had been so full of surprising revelations that his mind was awhirl, thus preventing him from thinking clearly. He was even starting to believe that perhaps Mr. Todd had a point.


	57. A Lack of Options

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna and Arthur are living abroad in Portugal, but for how much longer can they live abroad?

Arthur’s health was improving drastically. After seven months in Portugal, the two were ready to move again. Neither she nor Arthur had really enjoyed their time in Lisbon. Yes, the weather was glorious, as were the beaches and the architecture, but Johanna did not like that every which way she turned there were English people. Normally, this would be welcomed, but these English tourists threatened their clandestine living. And, of course, as with any foreign location, everything from the food to religion to friendships were so odd to Johanna and Arthur. 

Perhaps they could have better weathered these things if it were not for the fact that both associated Lisbon as the place they ran to after so swiftly deserting their friends. Arthur had not liked that he could not understand anyone and missed Ms. Lacreevy and the doctor immensely. They were like family to him. Johanna had worried he would regress despite the sunshine and clean air. However, once she said that they could return to England - “No, not to London” - if he got better, he determined that he would.

Johanna had spent a long time considering her options. Obviously, anywhere she had lived before was unideal. She considered moving to America, but there still remained such an untamed nature about the place. Would either she or Arthur be up to the task? She thought not. They needed to move somewhere where the weather was not constantly dreary, so most of England, Scotland and Ireland were impossible. Also, some place where they could fit in and Johanna could locate some sort of profitable job would be ideal. The two had to blend in, but it could not be a city filled with smog and dust and while Lisbon had not proved to be the most profitable city, she had hoped that Arthur would have adjusted to it over the passing months. It had failed to charm the young boy, however, and he was constantly asking when they would leave. 

Johanna lost many hours of sleep racking her brain for a solution. How had it come to this? Was she just deluding herself that the Judge was looking for her? Perhaps it was perfectly safe to go to France, Italy, Greece, or Switzerland. Perhaps she was creating this struggle. Perhaps the Judge had moved on and had a new mistress to pleasure him. But Johanna’s answer to all these wonderings was a resounding “no.” She felt herself being pulled taut.  
Perhaps the best answer was to send Arthur to a sanatorium, while she found a living somewhere else, saving money for the both of them. She would certainly look less conspicuous if she were alone. But to leave Arthur seemed impossible. There were her own feelings on the matter, as well as his. She had proposed it once and he had not spoken to her for three days afterwards. While it was one thing to send a ten year old boy to school, it was another to send a six year old boy away. And Johanna could not bear the idea of him being left alone as she had been.


	58. An Outsider's Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mrs. Miranda Bamford is quite fed up with all this talk of Johanna Turpin.

Mrs. Bamford did not understand why her husband had to be so dedicated to Judge Turpin’s quest for Mrs. Turpin. Obviously, knowing and befriending the Judge certainly had its benefits. And yes, his wife-ward ran away, but wasn’t that ages ago? It certainly happened before her and the Beadle were married. Moreover, she could tell the Judge wasn’t one of those men who refrained from visiting the brothels of London. So maybe he did love or had loved this woman. Why did he need to go traipsing across England, across Europe to find her? A woman would never do something that idiotic; she would reflect upon her lost love and eventually accept it or perhaps ruin with gossip the life of the new woman in her man’s life, but never search all of Europe to find a love who clearly did not want her anymore.

Mrs. Bamford didn’t love her husband or particularly enjoy his company, but it became annoying to say to one’s mother, “Yes, Mr. Bamford is out with the Judge tonight, mother. No, I do not know what they are doing. No, mother my husband is never at home.” It was true that since the Judge’s departure the Beadle had spent more time at home, but he still spent a lot of it thinking about where Johanna may have been or how to extract information from her London friends. Miranda Bamford could only roll her eyes at the whole situation. She had always known her life with Mr. Bamford would be dull, but this dull? She had expected that when she married a man in the upper echelons of government, she would have a more disposable income and spend more evenings going to parties - or throwing parties - and attending public events, but they did almost none of these things. 

It turned out that while her husband’s colleagues would never cross him, they were not friendly with him (and who could really blame them, she thought) and those that were friendly were generally simpering young men below his rank. His great friend was indeed the Judge. Miranda had been to the Judge’s house twice and he had been over to theirs once. It was an impressive house, more so than theirs, and Miranda could see herself having a very enjoyable time running it. She imagined how she would arrange for dinners that would allow her husband to move up in rank and have luncheons and tea for other refined women, eating off bone china and discussing the newest PB and theatre shows. She would redecorate all the rooms with the newest furniture and Lincrusta wall paper and have the maids put fresh flowers in the vases every two days. Yes, one could have quite a nice life here, she mused. 

So why then had the wife run off? Clearly, the Judge was not a barrel of laughs, but neither was Miranda’s husband, and he wasn’t even half as good-looking as Turpin. And, of course, everyone knew Judge Turpin was not the kindest of men, but he was smart and well-off and he didn’t walk around town with a superfluous cane like her husband insisted on doing. She thought about all of those times she had attempted to persuade her husband to disclose the details of the Turpin’s marriage. 

He would only say “She was once his ward and had ran away. Nothing more than that.” 

Her mother, being a terrible chatterbox, on other hand divulged more: “Apparently, Mirie, the girl was beautiful. That’s what Mrs. Glass told me; she heard it from her maid who knows Mr. Turpin’s housekeeper. But, oddly, hardly anyone on earth had seen her until she ran away because he, who is at least 40 years her senior, kept her locked up like a little prisoner. She must have been very pretty to be locked up so securely. She is sure to have fallen in love with some young man or had some young man fall in love with her by this point.” 

Well then, Miranda thought, they were both fools: Mrs. Turpin for marrying him when she was sure to know what he was like since she was his ward, and Mr. Turpin for thinking he could keep a woman locked up without friends for an eternity.


	59. A Dream of Vengeance (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Judge dreams what he will do once he has found Johanna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rape, non-con elements

The Judge awoke from his dream as the town clock outside his window struck 8. He rarely dreamed or he dreamed and didn’t remember it, but he remembered this one. It was a variation of the same dream he had been having for months: the dream where he found Johanna.

_A full moon would be out as he snaked his way down dirty streets and finally came to a small, decrepit house. He would sneak into the lowly hovel where only two candles were lit. He would see Johanna cooking or washing dishes, turned away from him, oblivious to his presence. He would clear his throat and she would turn around; she would be dressed in ragged clothes and her face would be covered in dirt, but still look absolutely lovely. Her face would expose exhaustion, but as soon as she realized who was standing in front of her, it would drop and be full of fear. He would approach her slowly, trapping her like an animal, telling her how he found her, while she would begin to cry and ask him for mercy. Sometimes, she fell to her knees and pleaded with him, other times he reached her before that and pushed her against a wall, maintaining a cool demeanor but squeezing her wrists until they bruised._

_Then they would suddenly be back in her room in England, except it would no longer look like her room. Gone were the dressing table, bedside table, vases, bookshelf, hung pictures, and country bed. Instead, the room would be painted in deep burgundy with naked Grecian women adorning it (as his study had been before Johanna was five) and in the middle would be a giant four poster, canopied bed with black velvet drapes. The bed would have a mirror on the top, just as he had seen in one of the London brothels. Golden floor lamps would be placed against the walls, but the room would remain dimly lit._

_Johanna would be shocked and scared by the changes and try to push past him to get out, which of course she would fail to do. She would struggle with him as he ripped her clothes off her and took her to the bed where a set of manacles with long chains for her feet and wrists awaited her; he saw himself locking each one around her slim extremities and telling her that now she was of the world she would service him in more worldly ways._

_The scene would shift again. He would be hosting a part much like the one from the night he took Johanna’s mother and everyone would be donning a mask. Johanna would appear in the doorway looking confused wearing a very sheer, simple white night gown that exposed her legs. She would wander around wondering what was happening, looking for him, drinking. Finally, when she was intoxicated, she would fall down upon a couch placed in the middle of the room where upon everyone would encircle her. Turpin would approach her and take off his mask._

_“What is happening?” she would ask groggily._

_“Your punishment and my vengeance” he would say and then cover her with his coat and his body._

_She would scream as everyone else around him laughed and clapped and chamber music blared. When he got off of her, she would be passed out. He would carry her behind a China screen._

_She would awake to find herself kneeling on the floor, surrounded by spectators again, some still in masks, some leering and laughing at her, he would beckon her with his hand to stand and she fearfully would. The men’s faces would fill with lust while women behind masks would point at her and snicker. She would then look down to see what she was wearing. She would realize to her complete horror she was wearing a skirt of black chiffon that made every part of her lower body visible while on top she would be wearing virtually nothing: a short vest that did not cover her bosom, rather made it more pronounced, as the girl in the painting The Enchantress was garbed in. Johanna would try to cover her bosom with her hands, but would realize that her hands were in chains behind her back and could only reach far enough in front so she could cover her almost completely exposed cunt. She would look around the circle of people trying to find a friendly face to help her and of course find none._

_He would come behind her and caress her everywhere whispering into her ear about how she had been so ungrateful and stupid to run away and how this was what people were really like He would tell her how she would never see her son again or leave this house. She would begin to scream and struggle, but he would hold her tight to his person while the Beadle stepped forward and removed his mask; he would stuff her mouth with a gag and then tie it in the back of her head, and finally he would get out a metal collar with a chain attached and secure it around her neck. The Judge would turn her around and tell her she had one last night to be of that world. He would then take her chain and parade her around the room, pushing her into men’s arms who would feel with eager hands and tongues the softness and suppleness of her skin. No, these men would not sleep with her but no part of her body would go untouched by these strangers. By the end, she would be back on the floor kneeling and weeping, raising her head to see the Judge as her owner and master._

When the Judge awoke from this dream or a variation of it, he would feel renewed in his quest for Johanna and annoyed that this wasn’t already a reality. As he dressed, he would imagine what their life would be after her public defilement: She would be so contrite and humble before him, surprised by his now kinder attitude towards her. When he returned from court, he would ascend to her bedroom, where she would now permanently be kept, he would unleash her from her manacles and kiss her lightly and stroke her hair, telling her how much he had missed her. He would give her a piece of candy and she would quietly say “thank you” and eat it ever so delicately in front of him still sitting on the bed, as if she were a child. She would be grateful for his gentleness now that she was aware of how powerful he could be. She would not ask to go out into the world or have the window open because she would now fully understand the evilness of people. She would not ask to go downstairs because she would remember that it had happened down there. As she became more obedient he would allow her to have a dressing table again and he would have the walls painted over with light blue, like she liked, but he would repaint the naked Grecian women as a reminder of what could happen again. He would take down the black drapes and allow her to pick the new ones. He might eventually even allow her to send little letters to their son, but only if she was very good. He thought of how she would only wear nightgowns or harem clothing or peasant dresses that tied in the front and gave him easier access to her bosom. She wouldn’t talk very much and when she did, they’d be simple things like asking him how his day was and if he liked what she was wearing and if she could do something for him.  
What did he need a wife he could fully converse with for? He was surrounded by people all day who he had to talk to; his relationship with Johanna would be simple: kind, yet firm master and grateful, submissive slave. 

When he thought that this might never happen, he was nearly driven insane with desperation. It had to happen. He had to be able to touch her again and make her obedient. The Judge would make deals with God that if He allowed him to find Johanna or hear news of her today, he would not humiliate her in front of a group of people. If God could just send him a sign and make her be resigned, thankful, and sweet without requiring the Judge to resort to violence!


	60. Exhaustion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Judge continues his search for Johanna, but perhaps it is fruitless.

Turpin had spent 8 months looking for Johanna. Sometimes staying somewhere on the continent, sometimes going back to England for a short spell of time to collect letters, money, and speak to the Beadle. It was lucky that he had made so many good investments over the years and knew how to live frugally when pushed. He wasn’t going to waste his money renting out a room in one of the expensive European hotels; he went to the local hotels or rooms for rent because they suited his needs of discretion better and because he thought this was a more effective way of hearing about or seeing Johanna. He was living in a small house in Madrid currently, while his detective was scouring Barcelona. 

It was not until the Judge reached Spain that he realized Johanna may have entered holy orders. She could have had the boy take vows to become a priest, while she lied to the sisters that she was a widow, couldn’t she? He had asked the nuns at various convents he came across if they had admitted a little boy and woman, but he hadn’t asked if any had recently joined the order. He felt like a fool. The detective on the other hand doubted Johanna had done this considering how long it took to become a nun, the fact that she wasn’t Catholic, how her love for the little boy would prevent this, and how her English nationality would make her memorable to the nuns when he asked his questions. Still, while he was in Spain, he carefully looked at every nun and novice who passed him just to make sure.

He had decided that after they finished with Spain and moved onto Portugal, if he still had not found her, he would return to London to resume his career. He would pay the detective to keep an eye out, but would not look further himself nor would he send the detective to America. The thought of ending the search with nothing to show for it left him depressed. Yes, he had said he was going abroad for his health, but how many people believed that he wondered. Perhaps he did not have to go back at all; he had enough money and certainly was old enough to retire. Everything in that house reminded him of Johanna and he did not want to purchase a new home in London and he knew the country life did not agree with him. Perhaps he could move to a city like Paris or Rome; these were places that like London prized their deviances.


	61. Awoken from Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why has Mr. Sweeney Todd not enacted his revenge yet? What has been preventing him?

Mr. Sweeney Todd sat reflecting upon the lost years. The years when the barber could have made more of an effort to lure the Judge into his establishment. When Todd first returned to London 5 years ago and heard the tragic tale of his wife and daughter, his vengeance and anger were deeply felt. He wanted to storm out the door and slice Judge Turpin’s throat wherever the demon was at the time, whether it was in his private sanctuary of a home or on the bench convicting some man equally as stupid as Benjamin Barker had been. 

Mrs. Lovett, of course prevented him from doing this; she told him to bide his time. Still, he planned how he would get the Judge to his shop and slice his throat. Mrs. Lovett then reminded him that the Judge simply missing would not help Johanna; people would have to know he was dead, but moreover she would have to know. So he offered that he would shoot Turpin in broad daylight if that were the case; the papers were sure to print the story of how a crazy man in the middle of a crowded street killed a high-ranking judge. 

Mrs. Lovett dissuaded him from this as well, but his mind was filled with thoughts of revenge. He would think up a scheme and then realize the faults of it. He wanted the Judge to know who was ending his life, but he didn’t want Johanna to know who had done it. Inevitably, someone would realize who Sweeney Todd really was and the papers would run wild with the story, sensationalizing every detail and hounding Johanna. Perhaps Johanna did know of her true origins, but Todd doubted it; the Judge was sure to have told her a lie. The other concern was that he did not wish Johanna to be indicted in the murder; as he had found out in his own life, the law could use frighteningly little evidence to convict a person. 

Thus, with Johanna freed from her husband’s clutches for the time being and this plague of self-doubt, the years had flown past. Until the day when he heard of how the Judge and Beadle made a surprise call on Ms. Lacreevy looking for a lady. And then Todd saw the portrait. The matter of killing the Judge had not appeared pressing up until that time. Now, however, it consumed him.

The Barber’s life had been passing by in a haze. Somehow three years ago, he had found himself married to Mrs. Lovett and running a successful barbershop, making plans to turn the pie shop into a pub. However, Mrs. Lovett’s true dream was to move to a real home with wallpaper that wasn’t singed and windows that were not always covered in grimy soot. Even more than that the middle-aged woman dreamed of having a house with a view overlooking the ocean instead of one overlooking a street of equally unprosperous businesses and dilapidated homes. Todd would always agree with his wife that these things would be lovely and if they were what she wished for then they would acquire them, but they both understood that that was not until they had more money and, more importantly, carried out his revenge.

Todd had his own sources of information besides Doctor Woodcourt. He liked the young man and he could tell that the doctor was in love with Johanna, but he also knew that youth blinded people from seeing the horrifying truth of a situation. No, Woodcourt was not as naïve as Todd had been before being deported all those years ago, but he was an optimistic man despite having witnessed the ruinous effects of poverty and the pompousness of colleagues who betrayed their oaths for the sake of money and prestige. Todd knew captains, sailors, other convicts, and thieves who could serve as his ears. Knowing that the Judge had had Bournemouth examined, five months ago, Todd went to the next port he speculated Johanna could have departed from: Brighton. He took the portrait with him – a portrait he had looked over again and again – and visited a captain he knew made frequent journeys to the continent on passenger ships. This man referred him to another captain and it was when visiting with this captain that he discovered Johanna had indeed departed from Brighton, except it wasn’t the captain who recognized him, but the man’s brother-in-law, a wigmaker.

“Let me see that, Captain Roster” said the middle aged man as Todd sat at a table with them in a pub, “I recognize this woman.”

“Do you? How?”

“I cut her hair off. I was surprised she wanted to sell it, beautiful hair it was, but I could tell she was desperate for money. Her little boy watched as I cut it off; he was not happy with his mother’s changed appearance.”

“Did she say anything about where she was going?”

“No, she was quite tight lipped about it. I saw them the next day in town with luggage in hand, but I don’t know what boat she boarded. Oh, she had on spectacles, which she didn’t have on the day before.”

Todd went around the ships and asked the ship boarders if they remembered a woman with short hair, spectacles, and a little boy, but none did. He was at a dead end again, but at least he knew about her changed appearance. He thought about what the doctor had said concerning the Iberian peninsula. 

Perhaps it was time he took a trip to the continent.


	62. A Surprise Clue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mrs. Woodcourt, Allan's mother, comes to visit and unknowingly gives him a gift that might help with his quest.

“Oh, Allan, what are you doing living in a place like this. That a descendant of Morgan ap-Kerrig should live in a squalid place like this!”

“Mother as you knew when I entered the medical field I wouldn’t be doing it for money. There has to be a few misguided souls in every profession.”

“You aren’t misplaced, Allan. You have an air of the noblisse oblige about you to be sure, but to live in a place like this. It’s criminal. Don’t you tell people who you are? The proud history of our family?”

“Mother, this is England, not Wales. Perhaps at home people would care, but not here in London. People here in London don’t think very highly of-“ Allan bit hit tongue.

“What, Allan? People here in London don’t what?”

“They aren’t interested in Welsh lineage, mother. More and more people in London are becoming self-made, you know. Class will hopefully be on its way out.”

“Allan! Nothing will ever replace one’s pedigree, god-willing. And as for you thinking that English people don’t care about Welsh lineage, I’ll have you know that an English person I happened to meet in Pembrokeshire knew who Morgan ap-Kerrig was.”

“Well, then I stand somewhat corrected, mother. Now would you like me to take you out to lunch so the image of my inadequate living quarters are merely distant memory?” he laughed and they left his dismal rooms.

As they walked through Hyde Park the next day, arm-in-arm, Mrs. Woodcourt said distractedly, “You know, that lady was quite pretty.”

“What lady, mother?”

“The English lady who told me what she knew about Morgan ap-Kerrig.”

“Oh, was she?” said Allan not very interested. He had heard about Morgan ap-Kerrig his entire life and was tired of his mother’s obsession with their long dead ancestor.

“Yes, Allan. She was about your age. I met her when I was getting my new hat” she looked at Allan.

“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s lovely, mother.”

“Thank you, Allan. Yes, she was only a shop girl, but she knew about Morgan ap-Kerrig. I said to her ‘send this to Mrs. Woodcourt’ and she said, ‘Woodcourt?’ and then I said, ‘Yes, Mrs. Woodcourt. Do you know one of the Woodcourts?’ She replied, ‘No, ma’am, but I know of the legend of Morgan ap-Kerrig and that the Woodcourts are direct descendents.’ Well, I need not tell you that I was quite pleased with this and I made her tell me what she knew. I had to correct her on a few details, but her knowledge was thorough. So you see, Allan, not all English people are as uninterested as you think.”

Allan smiled at his mother. She would talk about Morgan ap-Kerrig till she was in the grave. As to quiet her on that subject, he began asking her about the species of flowers and trees they were passing by. He loved his mother, but she was too concerned with pedigree and Welsh affairs.

As they left the park, they passed a little boy crying and yelling at his nanny.

“These English children, have they no respect? You would never see a Welsh child act like that!” Mrs. Woodcourt whispered to Allan. Allan knew for a fact that this was untrue; he distinctly remembered yelling at his mother when he was about that child’s age when she tried to make him wear a sailor suit. “That woman’s son was surprisingly well behaved for an English child. He even offered his hand for me to shake, quite a little gentleman.”

“Who mother?”

“Oh, Allan, have you been listening to nothing I’ve said? The lady at the hat shop, the shop girl! I saw her the next day near the pier with her little boy, about six years old I would say. He was a very good looking lad. I almost didn’t recognize the lady, you know, because she was wearing a most unflattering pair of spectacles. I’ve never liked spectacles on women. Even if my vision were not perfect like it is, then I still would refuse to wear spectacles.”

“Until you accidently stepped on something or ran into a wall.”

“Allan, I would never be so uncoordinated! I hope you think your mother has some grace.”

“Yes, of course, mother. Please continue on with your story.”

“Well, we said hello to each other and she allowed me to look at the sketchbook she was carrying with her. I told her she could probably make a few pounds selling the paintings, but she said she only did it for herself. But I managed to cajole her to sell me one of the seaside and – Oh, Allan look! That’s Prince Edward’s carriage is it not?”

As Allan walked his mother to the hotel, she talked of nothing but how the fashions and road rules in London differed from the ones in Wales, with Wales always coming out the victor. He knew she was lonely without him at home anymore so he humored her in her opinion that Wales was one of the truly refined places in the earth. 

After a small rest, Mrs. Woodcourt joined her son for tea in the sunroom of the hotel. She brought with her a slim, brown parcel. It was clearly a framed picture and Allan correctly surmised it was the one his mother had mentioned earlier. 

“Now, Allan, I’ve brought a gift for you so that you can remember your homeland. You can hang it in your rooms. Perhaps it will cheer it up. Open it when you get home, so you don’t get the paper everywhere.” He thanked her as she handed the wrapped parcel over to him.

When they had had their tea, Allan left feeling absolutely drained. He always forgot how taxing being with his mother could be. He didn’t like to admit that that was the case, but he always left her presence with a slight headache and a thankful heart that he no longer lived in Wales. Upon arriving at his squalid residence - he thought his mother should see where some of his patients lived - Allan put the parcel on his desk to look at later and grabbed his medical supplies to begin his rounds. He laughed to himself about how his mother would never have called the shop girl a “lady” if she knew nothing of Morgan ap-Kerrig. Indeed, Mrs. Woodcourt would have been vexed that an English girl had “stolen” a job from a Welsh girl. However, the knowledge of their family lineage saved the woman from his mother’s contempt. The girl must be a pursuer of Welsh history, he thought.

It wasn’t until the next day, an hour before he was to meet his mother for supper, that he looked at the portrait. The painting was surprisingly evocative, but there was something more to it than that. Something about the style of drawing seemed familiar to him. He sat down and examined the work. Allan flew to his desk. With a set purpose, he rummaged threw a desk drawer. In his hands, he held a postcard-sized drawing of a Manchester factory. It had been given to him by one of his patients. No, not one of his patients. It was given to him by Johanna. Johanna had bestowed it upon him with undeserved humility during their first weeks of knowing each other. 

His eyes darted between the two works. This couldn’t be he thought. The thought in his head wasn’t possible. But as Allan examined the paintings closely, it seemed completely plausible. Had he not told Johanna about the legend of Morgan ap-Kerrig? And how his mother took such pride in their heritage? He remembered telling her how a large part of his childhood had been spent memorizing and reciting the tale. What was it his mother had said about a child? Did she say it was a boy of about six? Arthur should have been six by now. 

Allan’s heart beat quickly. The only person he could think of seeing was Ms. Lacreevy. She would be able to compare the two works more fully. And with that Allan placed the two portraits into the brown paper bag and then it into his briefcase to keep them safe. He quickly ran to his mother’s lodgings and left a note to say he could not make it to supper, deepest apologies. He then ran in the opposite direction to Ms. Lacreevy’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wish I could take credit for some of Mrs. Woodcourt's lines, but some of them are borrowed from Dickens' work and some are from the 2005 TV adaptation of Bleak House.


	63. Puzzle Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allan visits Mrs. Todd (formerly Mrs. Lovvett)

“Where is your husband, Mrs. Todd? He’s not up in his shop.”

“No, well that would be a bit hard with him on a boat to Portugal, wouldn’t it?”

“Portugal? Why is he going there?”

“Well, he heard from a sailor friend of his a few days ago that 10 months ago he transported a bespectacled woman with short hair and a little boy to Lisbon.”

“Did you say bespectacled?”

“Yes, he heard from a different seafaring friend of his a few months back that someone who looked like Johanna had cut her hair off and started wearing spectacles.”

“Why did he not tell me this?” 

“Why what’s the matter, love? Please, sit down you’re giving me a fright.”

“Excuse me, Mrs. Todd” Allan said and sat down only to stand back up “I have to telegram him. I don’t think she is in Portugal anymore, but in Wales. Pembrokeshire to be specific.” He then told Mrs. Todd about the paintings and how his mother had met a young lady who had spectacles but was beautiful and had a small child with her. He explained rather rapidly so Mrs. Todd didn’t understand most of what he was saying and found herself only able to nod.

“Well, listen, love, why don’t you go visit Pembrokeshire (that was it wasn’t it?) and see if it’s really her. You can telegram Mr. Todd from there if it is.”

“Yes, of course” Allan said excitedly. He never acted like this, so hyper and unrationalizing. “I’ll go now.”

“Wait, deary, don’t take a straight trip to Wales. Who knows if the Beadle is still having you watched.”

Allan stopped and sat down, “Yes, of course.” He thought on how odd it would look if anyone was watching for him to go to Wales when his mother was in London. “I’ll accompany my mother home in a few days. I suppose I could wait a few days. Mr. Todd is sure to have arrived in Portugal and set up some permanent residence by then; I assume he’s telegramming you his address?”

“Yes, come back tomorrow to see if it’s arrived.” Allan nodded and left thanking her for her hospitality. He was full of frantic energy, but his initial hyperness was waning, which would allow for him to have more reasoning capabilities.


	64. To Pembrokeshire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allan travels to Wales with his mother. Will his search be in vain?

Allan sat next to his mother in the carriage as they passed over the border into Wales. His mother was shocked that her son wanted to accompany her back to Wales. After all, he hadn’t been home in five years. And low-and-behold, quite suddenly, he had a yearning to go. She prided herself that it must have been her talk of Morgan ap-Kerrig combined with the painting she had given him that caused this change of heart. She thought with joy that perhaps he would move back, become a doctor to the Welsh elite, and marry a well-bred Welsh girl who would bestow her with lovely Welsh grandchildren to carry on the Morgan ap-Kerrig name. 

When they passed over the Lands Line, Mrs. Woodcourt asked her son,  
“Allan, do you not notice how much cleaner the air is here?”

“I gather mother that there are many places in the world that have cleaner air than does London.”

“Yes, that is true, Allan, but doesn’t it seem like even the air here in Wales is more clean and crisp than that in England? You surely must have noticed the difference as we came over.” 

Allan smiled and nodded at his mother. This had gone on the whole trip over; he had expected it, but not in such force. He could now clearly see his mother thought his homecoming meant he was contemplating moving back. Perhaps if Johanna were here he would make more frequent stops.

“Mother, would you mind if I went to the beach tomorrow?”

“I am visiting with Mrs. William tomorrow, Allan. Why do we not go another day, you told your patients you might be a gone at least a week didn’t you?”

“Yes, mother, but I think I should like to see where that drawing was done and look around the town to see how it has progressed. We’ll take a walk together there on some other day.” 

The following morning, Allan awoke early. His heart pounded in his chest and there were butterflies in his stomach as he made his way by foot to the seaside. By the time he arrived, it was a little past midday. He had found out from his mother where the shop was and busied himself in the surrounding area.   
The poor man couldn’t sit still anywhere. His mind was filled with what he should and shouldn’t say. Repeatedly the doctor was forced to remind himself that he may have caught the wrong end of the stick. His suspicions may have been wrongly placed. By the time the shop was closing, he felt he would go mad if he were made to wait one minute more. 

Finally, as he saw the last customers depart, he went in.

“We are clozing, zir” a woman in her forties informed him.

“Yes, well I was just looking for ….for a hat for my mother.”

“Perhaps, monsieur you could wait till tomorrow?”

“Yes, well…” he stalled. Why didn’t he just ask her? “I’m looking for an employee of yours. She’s in her twenties and –“  
“Mizz James?” the lady called out. 

“Yes, Madame?” said a voice from the back room.

“There iz a gentleman to zee you.” There was no response and Allan realized that perhaps she thought he was Judge Turpin.  
“It is merely an old friend who wanted to thank you for a painting of the ocean.” Miss James stepped into the room and Allan couldn’t stop from smiling.


	65. Disappointment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna and Woodcourt are reunited, but it is not what the doctor expects.

“I didn’t think your mother was going to give you the drawing. I thought it was just for herself. In fact, I wasn’t even sure it was your mother.”

“Would you have refused to sell it to her if you had known?”

“Perhaps.”

“Oh, it’s just that I thought that you were send…No, you must tell me how Arthur is.”

“Sir Gwain is doing very well. His health improved drastically in Portugal.”

“Gwain? Is that the name he chose for himself?” he chuckled.

“Yes, he became tired of Cornelius, as had I” she said joining in his good humor.

“Were you in Portugal this entire time?”

“Yes, we lived in Lisbon until two months ago.”

“What made you leave? What made you come to Pembrokeshire?” There was an unmistakable air of hope in his voice.

“I have a guide of Europe and Pembrokshire was listed as one of the warmest and sunniest locals in England. Arthur and I wearied of never understanding people, although Arthur was beginning to speak Portugeuse, and…” she slowed her walking

“Yes?”

“And I grew tired of not being able to shake this feeling that something was over my shoulder. I have that feeling every time I move, but it usually subsides and allows me to live in some assemblage of peace. Being surrounded by a new culture and language left me feeling completely unsafe as did the inability to discover if I was being chased by…”

“Your husband. Judge Turpin?” She looked at him, not surprised, but pained.

“Yes, how did you find out?”

“Your intuition was right about him. He has been searching for you. An hour after you left he came to Ms. Lacreevy door looking for you.”

“Oh, poor Ms. Lacreevy. Is she doing well? Arthur and I miss her terribly. I wanted to send her a letter, but I didn’t think it was safe.”

“It wasn’t I am sad to say” Allan commented and then continued on. He told her about what had happened that night and how the Beadle asked all Ms. Lacreevy neighbors about Johanna and had Ms. Lacreevy and himself watched. He then informed her of the Judge’s trips to Europe and how he used his contacts to find out information about where the Judge had been or was going. “And then of course, there’s Mr. Todd’s interest in the case”

“Mr. Todd? Who is he?”

Allan realized he had said something he shouldn’t have. After all, how was he going to explain Todd’s involvement without telling her the story of her origins? 

“He’s a friend of mine…A barber, who detests Judge Turpin. A friend of his was unjustly sentenced by the Judge and Mr. Todd would like to avenge him. He’s offered his services to help you stay safe from him.” 

When Allan finished he was surprised to see Johanna’s eyebrows furrowed. She wouldn’t look at him; her eyes only focused on the ground or horizon ahead. 

“I promise you, Mr. Todd, is not one of the Judge’s or Beadle’s cronies, Johanna. I wouldn’t – I didn’t go about town telling your story. He only knew because he heard about the Judge’s visit to Ms. Lacreevy’.” He was worried she was angry at him and all he desperately yearned to do was hold her hand.

“No, Dr. Woodcourt, I would never think of you as one of those people who would be careless with dispensing information. I am sure your friend is earnest in his dislike of my husband and his want of revenge…I simply feel that I have involved you in something that has only cost you time and resources. You did enough for me and Arthur when we were in London, you didn’t need to put additional stress on yourself doing this, as well. I wish you hadn’t.” 

Allan was shocked and hurt. He thought she would be happy to see him. He deduced that Johanna had sold the painting to his mother in hopes of sending him a coded message. Clearly, neither was the case. The woman he cared so deeply for - he could not bring himself to say “loved” - had only smiled politely when she saw him in the shop and when she talked about Arthur’s new name. He did not feel angry with her. She was being earnest, not callous as she had been that night she left.

“You must think very little of me to think I would just stop wanting to help you because you left London.”

“I don’t think little of you, Dr. Woodcourt. In fact, I…I think you are a very good man and a good friend. I just wish that for your sake you had not become entangled in this affair. My husband is a vengeful man, as you can clearly see and I worry your involvement will make your life very difficult.” The clock struck six. “Is that really the time? I’m sorry I must go. The woman who looks after Arthur already dislikes me. Being this late again is sure to make her raise her rates or quit”

“I’ll accompany you home then I can say hello to Arthur and-”

“No, please don’t” she said hastily, meeting his eyes briefly. “He was so terribly upset when we had to leave London and I don’t want to put him through that again; get his hopes up again. Thank you for coming to see me. It was very kind of you. Goodbye.”

Johanna walked away quickly from him as he tried to make some protestation.


	66. Unexpected Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna once again must struggle with her overwhelming feelings for Allan Woodcourt

Johanna wiped a tear from her cheek as she heard her employer tell her to go home. Two weeks ago, she had been living a life that was approaching normalcy. Her heart did not ache for what it could not have and her soul was not burdened with fresh guilt. And then Allan had come.

Over the past two weeks, as she lay in bed with Arthur curled beside her, she would shed tears at how she had had to address the doctor. It was all so unfair and cruel. It is a lucky thing Arthur sleeps through my crying, she thought. 

These sleepless nights, however, made it harder for her to work. And now, due to the fact that she had been late four times, Ms. Sheen was acting very arrogant and always had some negative comment for her when she left or came back home. Johanna decided that she would pick a new nanny soon. She didn’t want someone this strict and zealous around Arthur. 

The sun was setting as Johanna approached the house. Before Johanna even made it to the door, Ms. Sheen came out.

“Mrs. James, your son is doing well. Now I have an appointment I must keep” the nanny said brusquely, not even bothering to look at Johanna.

Johanna only sighed and opened the front door. As she stood in the small entrance way removing her hat and coat, she called out in a singsong voice “Sir Gwain, most brave and valiant what are you doing?”

She turned around and entered the small parlor-kitchen to behold Arthur sitting on a chair with a gag in his mouth and his legs and feet tied with a rope. Before she even had time to understand the situation, she felt a hand cover her mouth and another one encircle her waist.


	67. Returning to London (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna has evaded the Judge for the last time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rape, non-con elements

The Beadle pushed his friend’s wife into the small bedroom and then threw her onto the bed. The Judge followed behind him and slammed the door. Johanna began to recover from her shock and made for her wardrobe to find the gun she had hidden there. But the Beadle was too quick. He grabbed her, pushed her back onto the bed, and sat atop of her, holding down her arms. In vain Johanna tried kicking him off until she heard the Judge say, 

“Johanna, if you want the boy to come to no harm, you will desist.” 

Her thrashing stopped, allowing the Beadle to get off of her. 

Johanna sat up looking at them. There her husband stood looking slightly older and sporting a full beard, while the Beadle stood looking much the same except a little fatter and greasier. She felt so vulnerable before them like she had that day she married the Judge, the day he took her in front of his crony, and the day he lied to her about the windows. It no longer mattered that she had devised her own escape or that for almost 8 years she had supported herself and a child and travelled to the continent. All of the confidence that those actions and accomplishments had required and given her in return vanished.

The Beadle went out the door and brought the boy in, carrying him by the ropes that bound him. He lightly tossed him on the bed and closed the door again. Johanna hurriedly took off her son’s gag and hugged him to her while he cried and asked what was going on.

“Johanna, you have a choice: You can come with us and we’ll untie the boy so he can sit comfortably with you on our way back to London or you can struggle with us and the boy will sit outside the cab with the Beadle the whole way home, which I’m sure won’t be good for his health.”

“I’ll come with you, please untie him” Johanna said hastily, her heart breaking. 

The Beadle handed the Judge his cane. The Judge pressed a button on it and a sword popped out. The Judge approached Arthur who was trying to hide into Johanna more. 

“It’s alright, Arthur, he won’t hurt you with that” Johanna said and met the eyes of the Judge watching him carefully and holding Arthur still so he didn’t get cut. When the Judge was finished, he stepped back and returned the cane to the Beadle.

“There is a cab waiting for us in the alley. Come.”

“But our things…”

“I doubt you own anything of import in this place. A new wardrobe will be made for you two at home.”

“Let me bring a toy and blanket for Arthur.” 

The Beadle sniggered, but the Judge agreed. Johanna was terrified, but she was trying to not show how much so in front of Arthur, who would only be more alarmed if she was. She wrapped Arthur in a blanket and retrieved his favorite toy all the time smiling at him and making up some lie about going on an adventure. She carefully picked him up. 

As Johanna followed the Judge past the Beadle, who was holding the door ajar and twirling his cane threateningly, she had the realization that this might be the last time she saw any other place than her old bedroom. She held Arthur closer to her despite the fact that he was already squeezing her hard enough to hurt. 

Johanna’s eyes gazed at the two men as they took seats across from her and Arthur. While the Beadle appeared smug, the Judge occupied his time by glaring at the boy. Johanna could tell he did not like how close she was holding their son or how she was kissing their son’s forehead and whispering loving words into his ear. She knew that when Arthur fell asleep, she would be free to ask her husband how he had found her and what would happen to their son.

As they crossed the Landsker Line, Arthur remembered how their cat Alice would not have anyone to let her into the house or anyone to feed her and he began having a temper tantrum. Johanna tried to pacify him and even threatened to spank him, but he was resolved to be angry amongst all this chaos. That was until the Beadle pulled the boy’s ear and threatened to whip him with his cane. Ever constant, the Judge kept his stare fixed on the boy. The contempt in his eyes was frightening to behold. Arthur meanwhile was not bothered with the Judge; he looked at the Beadle defiantly until the Beadle released the sword of his cane and let it glisten in the moonlight. Then the boy quieted and further hid himself into Johanna’s arms, finally falling into a troubled asleep. The Beadle too nodded off, leaving the Judge and Johanna alone.

“How did you find us?”

“After scouring half of Europe for you, Johanna, promising rewards to those who could provide information about you, I received a telegram from Wales by way of London that some woman had discovered a piece of paper detailing how her employer’s son’s real name was Arthur Turpin and his father was a judge in London.”

“Ms. Sheen.” 

“Yes, she seemed to think that it would the Christian thing to inform a man that he had a child, in case he didn’t know. She was surprised when she heard the full details of your sordid life.” The manner in which the Judge said sordid made her scared about what he would do to her when they were truly alone.

“What will my punishment be?”

“For your sins of lying, stealing, disobeying your husband, and hiding your husband’s own child from him? I have not yet decided on what your full punishment will be, but I will try to temper mercy with justice. Then of course, there’s the sin of adultery…”

Johanna examined his face in the moonlight peering through the window; she saw that he really was unsure if she had been with another man. 

“There is no need to worry about that”

“Johanna, if you are lying to me – “

“I’m not. I’ll swear it on a bible if you wish…I’ve never wanted to be touched that way again.”

“That wish will go unfulfilled, Johanna”

“I expected nothing else” she whispered. Her gaze dropped down. Arthur’s head was resting on her lap. Gently, she brushed the hair out of his eyes. She asked her captor, “What will you do to him, your son.” She was ready to plea with him.

“Is he actually mine? Yes, he must be considering when you left and when he was born and your promise to me. I have not decided yet. My impression so far is that you have over pampered him. ‘Folly is bound up in the heart of a child, but the rod of discipline drives it far from him…’ Thus, I now realize, I made the mistake of sparing you from the rod. I have witnessed God’s punishment for my mistake. You may have been a good little girl, but clearly my misplaced sympathies have affected how you’ve conducted yourself as an adult. I do not think I will make the same mistake twice, Johanna, and, besides, I’ve seen what happens when boys are not reminded of their father’s will. They end up before me in court.”

“Surely, only the poor ones end up before a judge” she sniggered.

“So you have learned how the world works? The boy is ill?” 

Johanna worried if she told her husband of their son’s weakened heart, he would be sent away. But what if she said no? The Judge would know she was lying and he would hurt Arthur when they arrived home.

“Yes, he has been ill. He is in good health at present, but new, unexpected developments could throw him back into illness, especially if –“ 

“You are not with him?” 

“No matter what I say or how he acts, you’re going to send him away, aren’t you?” The Judge didn’t reply. “It would probably be better that you did. I wouldn’t want him growing up in that prison of a house. Where do you plan on sending him?” 

“I haven’t made my mind up yet. There are places in Bournemouth and Brighton that I would be willing to send him to if you behave yourself.”

“Would you wait for me to explain to him why he’s leaving? Not just whisking him off in the middle of the night?”

“If you thought I was just going to let our son go without learning what type of woman you are, you are mistaken. You will admit your sins before him and me.”

“Will you admit yours?” she bit back.

“If you want him to be sent to a nice place, you will think more before you speak to me, Johanna.” 

They didn’t talk much afterwards. Johanna only spoke when she needed to ask him to stop for Arthur to go to the bathroom or needed something for Arthur to eat. She could only think of how she would tell Arthur that his father was alive; she knew she could not tell him what his father was really like without causing Arthur to be frightened. The young boy would worry for her being left alone with him. 

While Arthur slept or feigned sleep almost the entirety of the trip, Johanna did not sleep at all and, she noted, neither did the Judge.

After what seemed an eternity, they arrived at the house she once called home. It was late at night as the Beadle emerged from the cab first to have one of the servants open the door for them. The Judge had not been back to London in 2 months and had given no warning of his return, thus it took quite some time for a servant to arrive at the door. The Judge then guided Johanna and Arthur out of the cab. Johanna was too exhausted to carry Arthur, so they slowly walked up the steps together. When they finally arrived at the front door, the house keeper was fully aware of who was standing before her. Ms. Foster gave Johanna a pitying look and greeted her after welcoming the Judge home.

“I assume you’ve been keeping up my and Mrs. Turpin’s room, Ms. Foster? 

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Please prepare Mrs. Turpin’s old room.” 

The housekeeper left and the Judge beckoned the tired party into the parlor. Johanna and Arthur sat on the couch, while the Beadle sat in an armchair. The Judge poured two snifters of brandy to celebrate his success, as well as give him more energy for what he was about to do. 

Johanna murmured to Arthur that they were in the home she grew up in and tried to point out to him the lovely vases, pictures, and fireplace, but he was more interested in playing with her hair and hiding his face from the Beadle, who, at the moment, was more frightening to him than was the Judge. Johanna noticed the windows were no longer shuttered; she wondered how long it had been before the Judge realized how depressing it was to live in a house with no natural light pouring in. The maid returned and Johanna, the Judge, and Arthur ascended the stairs to Johanna’s old room.

The room had the musty smell of disuse. None of the furnishings had changed and the window remained closed. The Judge stood in the door frame watching Johanna as she guided Arthur to the bed and began looking in her bottom drawer for one of her old nightgowns. She managed to get him into it despite his worry that it was a girl’s nightgown. She tucked him in and began telling him a story as the Judge cleared his throat, telling her she had wasted enough time. Arthur begged her not to leave him alone in this strange room, but she told him she’d be back before he woke up the next morning, praying that she wasn’t telling a lie. She kissed him and left him in the room that was once her prison. 

When the Judge closed and locked the door, he pushed her against the wall and began kissing and feeling her up. She stood there passively, letting him open her mouth with his tongue and squeezing her breasts and bottom. He then took her hand and marched her down to their room. He sat her in the armchair in front of the fire.

“If you wish to keep your promise to him, you will pleasure me tonight. Sit here until I come back.” 

The Judge left the room and Johanna’s eyes searched the room. Nothing had changed in here either. She felt herself beginning to cry but bit her lip to prevent it. If she had to pleasure him, this was not the time to fall to pieces. He returned. 

“The Beadle is sleeping in the parlor, so if you are thinking of escaping, I would think again.” 

“With or without the Beadle, attempting escape would be futile wouldn’t it?” she replied looking into the fire. The Judge approached her and turned her face towards him. 

“Do you know how much money and time I’ve spent looking for you, Johanna.” She tried to shirk him off, but he held her face more tightly. “You will not defy me again. You will pay for the embarrassment you’ve caused me.” He let her face go and walked away from her beginning to undress. The Judge called her to him. He was down to his shirt and trousers and turned Johanna around to unbutton her dress. Johanna could feel herself nearing a crisis as his hands slowly descended down her back. When he unbuttoned the last button, he slid her dress down and rubbed her thighs. He then began undoing her corset. Johanna let out a whimper as he finished undressing her. 

Hands that she had prayed would never touch her again and eyes that she hoped would never see her again were eagerly doing so. The Judge circled around her to see how her body had changed since he had dressed her that fateful day almost 8 years ago. She stood with her head held high feigning courage.

“You’ve hardly changed. Your face has matured, but it’s still…Your still as slender…Your hands aren’t as soft and you’re more bronze. You cut your hair didn’t you?... And your breasts…” are a bit larger and less perky she thought. “You stole from me the chance to watch you blossom from a rosebud to a rose, to transform from a pretty young woman to a beautiful woman. No wonder that simpering fool of a woman was able to sell that portrait of you.” 

He stopped in front of her and began tracing her body with two fingers from her shoulders, down and up her arms, down the sides of her torso, up the middle of it to her neck, grabbing hold of her chin. 

“No doubt your beauty was also advantageous to escaping payments for rent, food, and doctors or a doctor.” Did he know that the Dr. Woodcourt had come to visit her in Pembrokeshire? She had not spoken of it to anyone, but it was a small place. Ms. Sheen could have easily found out.

“As you told me when you proposed to me, there are men who are of a different, higher order and don’t only think of one thing. They are able to conceive of greater things than mere satisfaction of their lusts” she managed to state this as a fact of life rather than a bitter indictment of him. Judge Turpin moved from her and sat on the bed. Johanna turned to face him, covering her breast and cunt with her arms. 

“Where all did you live? What did you do?” he asked as he untied his shoes. 

“I was a seamstress in Oxford, and then a shop girl in Bournemouth, but you already knew that. Then I went to Manchester to become a teacher, which I’m sure you found out about, then I lived in London as Ms. Lacreevy’ housekeeper. Lastly, to Lisbon as a seamstress again and to Wales as a shop girl yet again.”

“So Lisbon is where you vanished to? It was the last place I bothered to check.” 

Johanna heard pain in his voice as he uttered the word “vanished.” He beckoned her forth with his hands. She hesitated for an instant and then sat next to him. 

“You will pleasure me as you did all those years ago.” 

In her mind, Johanna finished the sentence, “when I lied to you about the window.” As Johanna reached out to touch his face, he grabbed her wrist and threatened,   
“Moreover, you will only think of me. I will know if you think of him.” 

Johanna had not even thought to think of Allan while making love to her husband and now it was all she wanted to do. To stall, Johanna grabbed the Judge’s large, slightly calloused hands and began caressing and kissing them. Her motive was to try to renew those feelings of when she loved him as a husband. Recalling the love that she had felt for him as a little girl was not difficult; indeed it had caused her much strife ever since she had become his wife and ever since she had left him. She racked her brain for a poignant memory and then remembered when he took her to the cottage for Christmas before she truly became his wife. The memory was painful, but she felt if she could just revive those feelings she had experienced, she could please him adequately. She kissed his mouth and felt his beard, which was beginning to irritate her face. As she began to undo his shirt, she heard him angrily say, “Johanna, you are doing what I asked you not to do. You are thinking of him.”  
“No, I am not” she replied passionately, looking into his eyes. “I am thinking of when we travelled to the cottage for Christmas.” She began stroking his still covered shoulders, “Do you remember that? How we spent most of our time downstairs in front of the fireplace? How we took those walks in the snow and you became so angry with me for throwing a snowball at you? How we ran out of firewood and you had to chop more? How you gave me that mother of pearl and gold pocket watch?” And then she said in the most seductive tone she could affect, “And how we had to spend those three days keeping each other warm?” 

She could tell his suspicion was disappearing; he was breathing heavily and while she did not feel lust for him, the memory was helping her to remember the time in her life when she did trust and love him. It was also aiding her in not thinking about the future. She kissed him again and busied her hands with unbuttoning his shirt and running her hands up and down his chest. 

As she began unbuttoning his trousers, he stopped kissing her and uttered “Why did you vanish?” She kissed him and pushed him down onto the bed, trying to avoid his question, not thinking he really wanted to know. 

When he began opening his mouth again, she moaned, “Mmmmmm, please let’s stop talking, mmmm.” He then relaxed his body and she unbuttoned his trouser and lightly kissed and sucked him until he came. 

As he lay there, exhausted and breathing heavily, Johanna realized what she just done and felt deeply ashamed and disgusted with herself. She had made love to this man who had hounded her for 8 years, broken promises to her, confined her, hurt her, and threatened her friends. She wanted to bathe, hide underneath the warm and soapy water, but the Judge grabbed her hand and brought her to lie beside him. He kissed her and fondled her breasts, clearly pleased with how the night had turned out. When his ardor cooled, she rested her head in his chest, but received no comfort from the action as she once had.

She was faintly able to untangle herself from his arms when she heard him lightly snoring. Johanna grabbed one of the kerosene lamps, and went to the bathroom. Upon opening the door, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Every fiber in her being wished to smash the mirror to bits. Instead, she turned from it, turned the taps of the bath on, and got into the tub. She looked around her, nothing had changed about this room either, except, she saw, he had begun keeping his razor in here again. Yes, she contemplated, if she did not have Arthur, she would not hesitate to use the blade to slit her wrists. 

Johanna sat in the bath a long time, barely noticing how her skin was becoming pruned or how the warm water was turning cold. She jumped when she heard the Judge clear his throat from the doorway. Her immediate reaction was to clamber out quickly, but he held a hand up to tell her to stay. 

Turpin knelt beside the tub, dressed in his bathrobe. His hand searched in the water for the plug. Johanna began to lift herself from the tub, but he put his arm across her body to tell her not to. She watched him closely. She felt incredibly vulnerable with him outside the tub and her inside. 

As the last of the water drained, the Judge turned the taps on. 

“My skin is all wrinkly. It would probably be best-“ 

“I want to wash you,” he said and grabbed the soap from the soap dish. He had not looked at her face since kneeling and Johanna could sense an aura of dangerous anger emanating from him, as if she were a faun in the forest looking in the wrong direction and he a hunter with his rifle pointed straight at her.   
The Judge carefully passed the bar of soap over her breasts, carefully washing each one. His hand glided down her stomach and then grazed her cunt. He seemed in a trance and Johanna worried he would lash out at any minute if it was not broken. 

“Would you like to get in with me?” she asked. 

His eyes finally met hers. He then kissed her as if he was trying to devour her. He stood up and grabbed her arm to tell her to get up. She did so worriedly. He took her hand and led her to their bed, flinging her onto it. Swiftly, he undid his robe, and got on top of her. She did not resist him, but he held her arms down anyway trapping her underneath him. He growled as he put his head between her breasts and took in her smell. He then began kissing her breasts, finally sucking her nipples. He bit one too hard and Johanna let out a small cry. He looked at her face and she could tell that he was thinking, “If you thought that was painful.” He harshly flipped her onto her stomach and brought her hips up. She began to use her arms to lift her so her back would be level, but he pushed her down again. He molded her buttocks with his hands, occasionally lightly spanking her or pinching her. Unexpectedly, he got up from the bed and went to his wardrobe. Johanna looked behind her to see him throwing things to the ground, clearly in search of something. 

Finally he marched back over to Johanna and forced her to return to her previous position. He grabbed her waist from behind and held her close to his body, standing next to the bed. He raised the paddle and smacked it across her bottom. She let out a scream and he held her closer to him, instructing her not to make a sound unless she wished to wake the entire house, including their son. She bit her upper lip and did her best to withstand the pain as the Judge delivered each blow with the same zeal. 

When it was finished, he threw the paddle onto the floor, still holding the trembling Johanna next to him. She was in horrible pain and terribly shaken and she knew this wasn’t the end. She wasn’t going to beg him to stop because she knew it would only make it worse. 

The Judge left her and went to the bathroom. He came back a minute later. Johanna had not dared to look up from her position and so she had no idea about the bottle of aftershave the Judge was holding. He splashed some of the contents from the bottle onto his hands and then rubbed them against Johanna’s welted and bleeding bottom. She screamed into the bed from sheer unexpected pain. As he continued, she brought her arm under her mouth and bit into it in attempts to lessen the pain that the Judge was inflicting upon her. When he was satisfied, he stopped rubbing the aftershave into her skin and got onto the bed behind her, spitting on his hands. 

Johanna knew what was coming next; this was only a more painful recreation of their first time doing anything together. The skin on her bottom was begging to go numb, thus the pain of his entrance was lessened, but as soon as the Judge harshly squeezed her breasts after inserting himself, she let out another scream. He pushed her head into the bed and then put his hand back onto her breast, molding, squeezing, and pinching it. He began moving into her and she forced herself to match his movements knowing how painful it would be otherwise.

After minutes of agony for Johanna, the Judge finally finished. He panted heavily behind her and she thought he was done. However, she felt him get off the bed and suddenly she was struck with the paddle again. She let out a full scream this time and the Judge smacked her again harder. She covered her mouth as he swatted her for two minutes more. When she heard him throw the paddle on the ground, she was terrified that he would reintroduce the aftershave.   
“Please, stop” she begged in a whisper, her body shaking uncontrollably. 

He moved from her and she peered up to see him sit in the armchair by the fire. She lowered her body to lay flat on her stomach and hid her face in her arms, falling asleep crying quietly.


	68. Half-Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What will Johanna tell Arthur?

Johanna awoke when she heard screaming and pounding coming from some distant local. She listened for a minute and realized it was Arthur in the upstairs room. She painfully got herself up and put on the Judge’s robe, which stung her cut up bottom immensely. Her husband was thankfully still dead to the world. In his jacket, she found the set of keys and went upstairs.

Upon opening the door, Arthur glared at her with red eyes and an angry expression on his face. 

“You lied. You weren’t here. You said we were going on an adventure, but I hate this place. I want to go home. I want to see Alice.” 

Johanna tried to reach down and pet his head, but he moved from her and began yelling at her how much he hated her and wanted her to die. Johanna closed the door and picked him up, despite his thrashing about and her exhaustion. She set him on the windowsill and began kissing his face and holding him close to her to quiet him down. When he began to stop his thrashing, she let him go and looked into his face, holding it in her hands.

“I know this place doesn’t seem very nice, but it’s our home. I’m sorry, but we can’t return to Wales. This is our new home.” 

“No, I’m going to runaway.”

“Please, don’t do that, Arthur. It will be alright. We’ll get a new cat and you can pet and feed and take care of him. I grew up in this room and when I was a child, I liked it very much. I used to play with my dolls on the floor over there. “

Dolls are only for girls! And all my toys are at home!”

“We can get you new toys and-“ 

“Nooooooo! You are a bad mum. I don’t want to be here with you. I hate you!”

Johanna looked at his angry face and felt at her wit’s end. Every word she had just uttered had been a lie, but what was she meant to tell him? She sunk to the floor, not even noticing the physical pain of sitting, and began weeping. Arthur slowly began to feel bad as he saw his mother crying so much before him, “because of me”, he thought.

“I’m sorry mum. I didn’t mean it. I won’t run away.” He clambered down to the ground and began hugging her, distressed that she hadn’t stopped crying. Johanna willed herself to look up and she picked Arthur from the ground and brought him to the bed where she laid him down on his back. She laid down next to him on her stomach. She held and kissed his little hand and smiled at him. Some minutes went by before either spoke.

“Mum, who are those men? Why did we move? Is it because of me?”

Johanna did not know what to say. She had been hoping to avoid this question for another day or so, but she could see it was inescapable. She couldn’t tell him the truth; it wouldn’t help anyone. 

“No, it isn’t because of you. It’s because of me. Do you remember how mummy said that your father was deceased? She was wrong…She didn’t know that he was still living. Your father thought I had run away from him and so he was very angry at me when he found me. He thought I had stolen you from him.”

“One of those men is my father? Which one?”

“The tall one. Oh, Arthur, do you hate me for being so stupid?”

“No…I’m glad it’s not the other one. He smells funny.” Johanna had to smile at that remembering how much the Beadle disgusted her when she was a child. She hugged Arthur tightly. 

After a few minutes, she continued,“Now, Arthur” she said looking very serious, “your father is stricter than I am, so he might seem as if he’s being mean to you, at first, but just give him time and I’m sure he’ll warm up to you as you will to him. Just make sure to be very well-behaved and try to pretend that you’re happy about moving here until then. Can you do that for me, please?”

“Yes, I think so…Mum, do you love him more than you love me now?”

“No, mothers never love anyone more than they love their children…But, listen, for the time being, I will need to show your father more attention – “ 

“To makeup for all the time you spent with me?”

“To makeup for lost time.”

“I can pay attention to him, too. Do you think he’d like that?” Johanna nodded. “Alright. I’m going to go take a bath. You can help me turn on the taps” said Arthur getting off the bed. 

Johanna said she’d be with him in a minute. She covered her mouth to prevent herself from letting out a cry; she wasn’t sure how much of what she had said was a lie and how much was the truth. Perhaps, the Judge would agree to keeping him here for a while or would warm to him a little bit. She would have to convince the Judge that she had had to lie to the boy for all their sakes.


	69. Possession (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Judge sets out the rules for he and Johanna's relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rape, non-con elements

The Judge awoke to an empty bed. He thought with horror that he had dreamed it all and he didn’t really have Johanna back, but then he caught sight of the paddle on the floor and knew it hadn’t been just a dream. He realized Johanna must be with that boy, so he dressed and went upstairs, but they weren’t there. As he walked down the stairs, Johanna came to meet him.

“We’re downstairs in the parlor.”

“You took the key from my pocket.”

“I heard pounding and screaming from my room and you were still sound asleep.”

“I don’t think we should tolerate that sort of behavior, Johanna” he said cornering her against the wall.

“He was scared, he’s never been – “ she replied defensively, but then remembered who she was talking to. “I have already discussed his behavior with him and how he should conduct himself in his father’s house.”

“You told him I was his father?”

“Yes, but, I did not think you wanted a screaming and pouting child around the house, nor did you want him to depend upon me so much so I told him that I had been mistaken in my belief that you were dead [“Johanna”] and that you had been angry with me because you thought I was trying to evade you [“Johanna, you will tell him the truth”].” She looked at him concerned. She had spent all of Arthur’s bath trying to determine how she would explain herself. “I know I did something that was dishonest and treacherous, but please let me try to be a decent wife to you. I told Arthur that I would need to spend more time with you than him; he understands. If I told him I had run away from you, he would be scared of you and for me and would do all he could to disrupt the house and then you would punish him, wouldn’t you? You would strike him with the rod very harshly and he might become sick again, which would distress and distract me and perhaps you would send him away and you would…you would have to resort to confining me again.”

“Perhaps I have already planned on confining you, Johanna, until you become a decent wife, a perfect rose again. Perhaps I’ve already decided to send him away.” Johanna tried to shift from his hands which were holding her shoulders to the wall. “You are trying to influence me into letting you determine how our marriage will run.” Johanna did not know what else to say and her shoulders were beginning to hurt. “It is lucky for you that the day I received that telegram, I had already made my bargain with God that if I were to hear any news of you, I would not bring upon you my full wrath. God can let you feel the full consequences for your sins in the next world.” He began kissing her. “You have eaten your breakfast? Good. Then go to our room and wait for me there.” He pecked her forehead and continued down the stairs.

He knocked on the door to his study and found the Beadle drinking a cup of coffee. He stood up and the Judge bid him to sit down.

“How was your sleep, my friend?”

“Very good, your honor. Did you encounter any trouble last night?”

“No, thank you for your help. You may go whenever you need to. Would you like more coffee?” he asked as he pulled the bell for the maid. 

The two drank their coffee in silence until the Judge spoke absentmindedly, “Johanna has some sort of rash on her face…It wasn’t there when we went to Wales…”

“My lord,” the Beadle began breaking the Judge’s reverie. “Perhaps the rash is a cause of your…”

“What, Beadle?”

“Do you remember how before Johanna said yes to your proposal, my lord, you asked me what you could do to make the lady keener?”

“Yes, new clothes and a shave. What does that have to do with” he felt his face and realized how full his beard had become, “My beard, you think? Constant travelling made it hard to keep up my appearance”

“No doubt, my lord, indeed the beard looks quite suitable on you, but with ladies’ fine skin, their faces tend to find it disagreeable even if their eyes don’t. I know of a good barber, my lord.”

“I hope you do not mean to suggest that place I went to all those years ago; when I last bestowed my patronage on the place, it was under the rule of some flamboyant Italian.”

“Yes, a lamentable fact, my lord. No, I have found the best barber, my lord. He’s the absolute last word in hair care. His name is Sweeney Todd. He resides in Fleet Street. Shall I tell him you are coming, my lord?”

“See if he will be in tonight. I may not come at all.” The Judge and the Beadle finished their coffee and the Beadle left. The Judge meanwhile asked Ms. Foster to join him in the study.

“Ms. Foster, please close the windows in the parlor. We can leave these open for now” he ordered pointing at the study windows. “Ms. Foster, this may go beyond your role of housekeeper, but I remember you doing something similar for Mrs. Turpin when she was little. Please, find clothes for the boy in one of the shops. You can measure him here.”

“Yes, sir. Are there any particular outfits you wish for the boy to have, your grace?”

“No, whatever you can find that isn’t outrageously expensive. Forward the expenses to me. When you finish measuring him, please take him to his room and make sure he stays there. Thank you.” She nodded and left. The Judge sat in his a study a minute more and then left. He peered into the parlor and saw the little boy looking out the windows and had a sense of satisfaction that they would all soon be closed. He walked up to his room and continued his reeducation of his wife in the matter of worldly pleasures.


	70. The Barber Readies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Todd has returned from Portugal and has come upon some interesting news.

Mr. Todd had returned to Fleet Street from Portugal nearly a week prior to Johanna’s return. His trip to Portugal had been pointless as he had discovered a few days after his ship docked. He received the telegram from Dr. Woodcourt about Johanna being safely in Wales, though she had lived in Lisbon for a time. He found out the Judge had already searched for Johanna in Lisbon and was continuing his search for her in the other towns and cities of Portugal. Thus, Todd found that he was neither able to further protect his daughter by giving her money and finding a safer place for her to live or by killing her pursuer. 

As the barber walked through the market near Fleet street who he came across the Beadle doing his health inspection rounds (or, rather, collecting his health inspection bribes). Todd had befriended the Beadle in the last few months (a fact he had neglected to tell the doctor). The Beadle was aware that Todd knew the doctor; the short man’s spies had reported back to him where Woodcourt went and who he spoke to frequently. However, Todd had pretended to want to help the Beadle and he gave him insignificant information about Allan as to secure the man’s patronage and trust. In turn, he believed he would gain those of the Judge’s. 

“Ahhh, Mr. Todd, how lovely to see you today, sir.”

“I assure you the feeling is mutual, Mr. Bamford. I hope you are doing well, as is your wife.”

“Thank you, yes, Miranda is doing quite well. And yours?”

“Mrs. Todd is in good spirits, sir. You have not come in for a shave in at least a month, sir.”

“No, well, I’ve been busy, but I imagine that soon I shall be visiting you more often now that that business is all over with”

“Over with, sir?”

“Just a little endeavor I was involved with, Mr. Todd. Your shop will be open tonight will it not, sir?”

“Yes, of course, sir. Do you plan on stopping in?”

“Yes, I might do that. I only wanted to check. Good day.”

“Good day, sir” he smiled, masking his hatred of the man. 

As Sweeney continued down the street, however, he replayed the conversation in his mind. What did the Beadle mean by “now that that business is all over with?” He knew where the Judge lived; he had wandered to it many times while the man was away so as to see the place where his wife was ruined and daughter imprisoned. He casually walked on the opposite side of the street, looking into the downstairs windows. He thought he saw a movement in one of them, so when he reached the end of the block he doubled back around on the other side of the street. When he arrived near the house, he bent over and pretended he needed to tie his shoes. He suddenly saw that where there had been open windows a few minutes ago, there was only one left unshuttered now and when he carefully looked over at the unshuttered window he thought saw a little boy looking out. Suddenly the little boy moved and the last window was closed. Todd wondered if it was just a trick of the mind; a figment of his imagination haunting him. 

His friends at the dock knew to come to him if the Judge returned, but if he had gone straight to Wales or one of the southwestern English ports, they obviously wouldn’t know. Todd headed in the direction of home. He didn’t think this was a product of his mind. It seemed to him now that perhaps the Beadle was insinuating to him that the Judge had found his wife and that both men might visit him tonight. If so, he and Mrs. Todd would need to be prepared to enact their plan.


	71. A Crimson Floor (M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Judge is in need of a shave, isn't he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some lines borrowed and paraphrased from the musical/movie.

Judge Turpin walked to Fleet Street with great satisfaction. From 10 bells to a half-hour past 18 bells, he had spent time with his reacquired wife in their bedroom. He had made her undress herself in front of him, undress him, suck him, fornicate with him on top and behind her, walk around their room in the nude, and touch him everywhere with her hands and lips. He had enjoyed seeing the looks of pain flash across her face without him even touching her. He did not paddle her again; he could tell that her bottom was still very sore and would need to recover a bit more before he could punish her in this manner again. However, it had not all been about pain. There were moments, such as when he was watching her pour tea for him and wash her face from the irritation of his beard where he remembered why he not only had animal lust for her, but loved her. She would return to the bed and he would be unable to not kiss and lightly fondle her, pressing himself against her and holding her until he was rock hard again. 

He was doing her a favor getting his beard shaved; of course, he had to do it to resume his position as judge since his colleagues would no doubt wonder if he had had a breakdown returning with a beard such as this. 

Turpin was surprised to see that the shop was in his old haunt, but he supposed the residence had been used over and over again by various barbers. He ascended the stairs and knocked on the door. A man with untidy black hair that had a white streak running through it opened the door.

“Sir, please come in” he smiled.

“Thank you” he looked around. The place was undeniably dismal and he began to doubt the Beadle’s opinion. There was no wallpaper anywhere and only one kerosene lamp lit. “My friend, the Beadle, recommended you highly, Mr. Todd, although your surroundings don’t inspire confidence.”

“Please, sir, pay no attention to them. I like to focus on my customers, not the frippery.”

“Mmm, very well put.”

“Please, sir, sit. What can I do for you?”

The Judge sat down in the barber’s chair. “I think a shave and a haircut shall suit my purposes, Mr. Todd.”

“Of course, may I also recommend some bay rum and a soothing skin massage? The ladies are very fond of it, sir.”

“Yes, I suppose there could be no harm in wearing a more seductive tone for her. Thank you.”

The barber began getting his tools out and the Judge relaxed in the chair. Yes, she must be pleased that he had refrained from bringing down his full wrath upon her. Of course, she wasn’t going to go unpunished; he would send the boy away soon and if she protested then yes, he would confine her. He would still go through with the outfits he had dreamed up for her; how beautiful she would look in the exotic fashions, especially now that her bosom had grown. He heard the barber whistling.

“Are you in a merry mood today, Mr. Todd?”

“I am merely catching yours, my lord, you seem to be delighted by something.”

“I suppose love does make men exude a certain aura of happiness.”

“Love and the sight of a pretty woman, sir.”

“Yes, pretty women do indeed do that do they not?” he smiled smugly.

As he moved in front of the Judge to continue shaving him, Mr. Todd said, “Yes, especially when they seem oblivious to how much they affect us, unaware of us gazing at them from across a market as they shop or watching them sipping coffee and dancing.” The Judge could not help but smile at the thought of it. Mr. Todd continued, “They are absolutely a wonder are they not, sir.”

“Yes,” the Judge gasped. This man clearly was more refined than his lodgings let on. Like him, he knew how to appreciate beauty. Women may have driven men to the point of insanity and caused no end of trouble for them, but all of that became unimportant when you were with them or just watching them. The barber continued to speak of the fascinating qualities and the Judge could not help but show his approval of the man. “How seldom it is, Mr. Todd, that one meets a fellow spirit.”

“Or at least one who shares a similar taste in women” he menacingly whispered.

“What? What did you say?” he asked hoping he had misheard the barber. 

Suddenly, he felt something tighten around him. He looked down and saw the barber had encircled him with thick satin rope that was now being pulled so tight that the Judge could not lift his arms and was stuck to the chair. 

“Mr. Todd is this some new form of barbering? I demand to know what game you think you are playing on me. You will most certainly not be receiving any commission from me and I will make sure worse happens to you than having your establishment closed!”

The barber only snickered at him, holding his razor menacingly, “I don’t think the Judge could do anything worse to me than what he’s already done… I see you don’t remember my face, sir, but I suppose the face of a barber in a dark cell isn’t particularly memorable, is it?”

The Judge slowly realized who the man standing in front of him was, “Benjamin Barker!” 

The barber flew to the Judge’s side and held his blade against the Judge’s neck.

“Yes, Benjamin Barker! Benjamin Barker! The man you sentenced to a lifetime of servitude in a godforsaken country so that you could have his pretty wife as a little plaything!”

“Sir if you do not wish to burn in hell or suffer more-“

“I cannot suffer more and I already live in hell, Judge. There are others however, who can suffer more from your continued existence.”

“If you mean my wife, you cannot have her. She would never attach herself to a murderer, even if that man was her father.”

“No, Judge, I’m not like you. I want what’s best for Johanna and what’s best for her is your death and for her not to know me. For better or worse, I’m not the man I was when you transported me to Australia all those years ago; I am no longer the man who had dreams of raising a little girl. However, Judge neither are you a man who has the right to have such a loving, beautiful wife” and with that Mr. Todd stabbed the Judge in the neck on the opposite side of the jugular vein. As the blood gushed out of his neck, he whispered with malice, “I hope you admitted your sins before God this morning” and then slit the detested man’s Jugular vein. Mr. Sweeney Todd moved in front of the Judge to see him breathe his last breath. With deep satisfaction he watched the blood pour forth and go into the cracks of the wooden floor. 

Mrs. Todd stepped in and put down the blinds and relocked the door. “Well, love, that was quite nerve-racking to watch. Now, let’s put him in the trunk and we can cart him off with the other one. You better clean yourself off. You’ve got some blood on you.” 

Mr. Todd wiped the blood off of himself after cleaning up the floor and his chair. They took the smock off the Judge and burned it, then carefully placed him in a very long trunk. With difficulty they carried it down the steps and into the baking house. They then put the Beadle’s body into the incinerator and transported the Judge in Mrs. Todd’s meat cart to an alley near one of the brothels where they made it appear that he had been a victim of theft or of the Beadle’s betrayal.

They returned home, made sure all the blood was cleaned up and spent a relaxing evening in each other’s arms. Mrs. Todd talked of the seaside the entire time.


	72. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna is still confined to her room, having no idea of her fathers' actions.

Johanna had waited all night and most of this morning for the Judge to release her. She hadn’t seen him since he left on some mysterious errand last evening and she was worried that Arthur thought she had forgotten him and was hungry and scared. She deduced that the Judge must have come back late and already left for court, but he hadn’t come in and changed; he would have woken her if he had. As she rang the bell for the maid she thought “at least I’m not tied up.” 

“Mrs. Turpin, ma’am?” said Mr. Foster from the other side of the door.

“Mrs. Foster, is the Judge in?”

“No, ma’am. I haven’t seen him all morning. Perhaps he came in late and left very early?”

“Yes, I thought that was a possibility. But he didn’t leave you any information? 

“No, Mrs. Turpin.”

“Where is Arthur?”

“He is in your old room where Mr. Turpin instructed me to place him yesterday morning.”

“Is he locked in there? He hasn’t gone without food has he?” she said a bit frantically.

“He is locked in the room, but I have the key and have brought him meals and snacks, Mrs. Turpin. Mr. Turpin also instructed me to get some new clothes for Arthur yesterday. I ordered 3 new outfits and bought a ready made suit for him to wear in the meantime.”

“Thank you very much, Mrs. Foster. I hope Arthur hasn’t troubled you very much. I asked him to be on his best behavior but sometimes when he is a new place he can be difficult. I don’t suppose you have the key to this room do you?”

“He’s been very well behaved ma’am and no, I am sorry only Mr. Turpin has that. Are you hungry Mrs. Turpin?” 

“Very” Johanna realized suddenly now that her heart had been set partly at ease knowing Arthur was safe and well fed. “I don’t suppose you know a method to apparate food into a locked room do you? Is there any way of sneaking some food under the door?”

“I think some biscuits on a plate might slide under the door, Mrs. Turpin. Will that do ma’am?” Johanna agreed and began fixing the bed and then dressing herself in one of her old dresses hanging in the ancient wardrobe. 

Ms. Foster returned and slid a thin plate with several biscuits underneath the door; a plate with thinly sliced ham followed. Johanna wolfed down the food having not eaten very much since leaving Wales. She waited for what seemed ages for the Judge to arrive and to ask him if she could visit Arthur for a few minutes. Mrs. Foster slid some food under the door at tea time, although they both lamented that they could not think of how to slide tea or coffee under the door.  
She spent much of the time thinking of how she could convince the Judge to let Arthur stay with them for a year before sending him off. She felt that if he were prepared for his departure, both he and she could weather it better. She tried not to think of what occurred the day prior. She had had to please the Judge for hours and her body still hurt from it. Sometimes it appeared that his need to be sated was motivated by pure lust, but other times she could tell it was something more, his own idea of what love was. 

How was it that he knew she was in love with the doctor? Did her face change when he insinuated him? Or was it simply that he would have suspected her of having feelings for any young man she had been in contact with? It pained her to think that Allan was just a few miles away from here. While in Portugal and in Wales, before his visit, she had forced herself not to think of him. When her thoughts did tend to him, she would tell herself he was a very exceptional young man, who she could be proud to say was her friend once upon a time. But since his visit, it had been harder to deceive herself. He had come to see her and he had thought she wanted him to. She felt she knew how that sentence he never finished ended: “Oh I thought you were sending me a message to tell me you were alright and your location and that you wished to see me.” She wondered if there was a part of her that had ulterior motives for finally letting the woman, who ended up being his mother, buy the painting. Or maybe it was fate giving her a chance to see him for the last time. With the way she had acted during their last meetings, he was sure to either think poorly of her or realize a relationship between them was hopeless. A smarter, unattached girl was sure to see his charm and he hers; it was only a matter of time. He would forget her or only remember her as that pitiable woman with a small child who he desired to help, but was refused. Perhaps, in time, she would forget him, too.


	73. A Grey Body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The police come to the house. How will Johanna react?

When the Judge had not arrived after dinner, Johanna was beginning to become aggravated. She desperately wanted to drink something besides water from the taps and to visit Arthur. An hour before, Ms. Foster had slid a drawing by Arthur under the door; in it, he was playing with some sort of toy and smiling. At the top he wrote that he hoped she was feeling better and could come out and play soon. She was glad Ms. Foster had told him some reason for why she hadn’t visited. As a child she had felt that Ms. Foster was a much warmer person than she let on and here was the proof. Johanna made a small drawing for Arthur and with much thanks to Ms. Foster, had it taken to Arthur. 

As the hours passed, Johanna truly began wondering where he was. She was not scared for his health or life since he had loomed large as an indefatigable force in hers for 25 years. Rather, she was becoming more and more frustrated wondering if this was a new form of torture or if he had forgotten the time while cavorting with the Beadle. A little after 22 bells, she heard a knock at the front door. She held her ear to the bedroom door but could not make out what the person was saying, she could only tell that it was a man. She heard footsteps on the stairs.

“Are you there, Mrs. Turpin?”

“Yes, Ms. Foster, I am here. Who is at the door?”

“It’s a police man, ma’am, I’m afraid he needs to speak to you?”

“About what?”

“He will not say, but he needs to talk to you in person. He says he can pick the lock to get you out. Are you dressed, ma’am?”

“One moment, Ms. Foster.” Johanna went to the mirror and brushed her hair so it looked somewhat orderly and checked to make sure all her buttons were done up. She went back to the door. “Yes, Ms. Foster, I am decent.” She heard Ms. Foster summon the man.

“Mrs. Turpin, I am Detective Inspector Shandy. I need to speak with you, so I am going to pick this lock if you have no objections.” 

“Please go ahead.” 

The man fumbled with the lock for two minutes and then let her out. What was this all about? Johanna was at a complete loss.

“Hello, Mrs. Turpin.” The detective inspector was younger than Johanna expected; he was possibly only a decade older than she and was gangly with short blonde hair and a rather poor looking handlebar mustache; he also carried a pipe that looked like it should belong to a 60 year old man, not a 38 year old one. “If you would be so kind as to follow me into the parlor, my lady.” 

Johanna led the way to the parlor wondering what this was all about. As she sat down, the detective stood in front of her with his hands behind his back, looking very important. 

“I am afraid ma’am that I have some distressing news to deliver. We believe that we have found your husband, Mr. Turpin, the honorable Judge Turpin, dead.”   
Johanna gasped. “Dead? But how?”

“We found a body that we believe is his in an alleyway in White Chapel. His throat had been jabbed and slit with what looks like some kind of knife.” Johanna sat in utter astonishment not sure what to do or think. “Mrs. Turpin, we need for you to accompany my sergeant and myself to the city morgue.” 

“Surely, Mrs. Turpin does not need to go there, inspector. Can you not ask Judge Turpin’s friend Beadle Bamford?” Ms. Foster said horrified.

“We have already thought of miss, knowing how sensitive ladies’ stomachs can be, but Mr. Bamford has gone missing, as well, it seems. So, we must use the next best person for the job.” 

Ms. Foster opened her mouth to speak. “No, Ms. Foster,” Johanna continued, “I’ll go, but, Inspector could you please give me a few moments to say goodnight to my son?”

“I suppose that could be arranged” he sighed. 

“I will not be long, Inspector.” She and Ms. Foster climbed the stairs to room in silence.

“Mum, you are better?!” Arthur said scurrying out of bed when he saw her in the doorway.

“Wait, you, get back into the bed” she said with mock disapproval. He did so and sat up eager to hear a story or have her sleep in the bed with him. Johanna quickly asked how he was and how he liked his new outfit and toy that Ms. Foster had kindly bought him, laughing at his replies that the food here was better than the food at home. 

“Arthur, I have to go out for a little bit, but I will be back shortly” She saw Arthur was scared, perhaps that she was leaving him. “I shall be as quick as I can and when I come back, you can sleep in my bed, hmm? And until then, Ms. Foster will take you down to the parlor and let you sleep there to await my return. The parlor is much less scary than this room isn’t it?” He nodded his head vigorously. “Alright, she’ll take you down once I leave, but you must promise to be a good boy and try to go to sleep on the couch and not go exploring.” Arthur agreed and she kissed him goodnight and went back down the stairs. She grabbed her coat and hat and accompanied the inspector and his sergeant to the city morgue.

The ride over was a strange one with the inspector and sergeant mostly talking amongst themselves about other officers and things they had seen in the paper that day. When they arrived at the morgue, Johanna followed the inspector into a dim room that smelled worse than anything she had ever smelt before. There was a haggard old man there who led the group to the body. Without warning, the inspector folded down the sheet to the middle of the Judge’s waistcoat.  
Johanna had never seen a dead body and she turned her head in horror. 

“Yes, they’re quite shocking when you are not used to looking at them. I hope your feminine sensibilities have not been too disturbed, but please look again to confirm the body’s identity for us.” 

Johanna looked again and was shocked to see the Judge’s face look so grey; his clothes were covered in blood and his neck, his neck was so horrible to look at that she was sick. The sergeant moved her from the room and sat her down on a bench outside. When she recovered she managed to utter amongst tears of shock that that was indeed her husband, Judge Turpin.

Johanna returned home with the two men accompanying her. The tears had after a few minutes. Now Johanna was trying to go over what she had just seen. How was it possible for him to be dead? To be murdered? This controlling and manipulative figure in her life was miraculously gone forever. 

The sergeant walked her to the door and said they’d be in touch and left. 

Johanna waited a moment before knocking, taking in the night air.


	74. A Murder Solved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The police have discovered who murdered Judge Turpin.

A month after the Judge’s death, Detective Inspector Shandy concluded that the Judge had been killed by Beadle Bamford over some disagreement, probably of a pecuniary nature. It was discovered that the Beadle was mismanaging his own money. The man was in debt to several financiers, who were notorious for obtaining their dues at any price. Shandy reckoned that the Beadle had asked the Judge for money and, upon being refused, had turned violent. It was believed that Beadle had absconded to some place abroad. And it was thought unlikely that Bamford would return to England considering the sum of his debts he had across the country. Shandy’s sergeant hypothesized that someone who sought vengeance against the Beadle and the Judge, of which there were many people, could have killed both of them and set it up to appear that the Beadle had betrayed his friend. But the more senior detective dismissed it as pure fiction. 

The Todds were never suspected and only a few noticed when they closed their barber and pie shops and moved to the coast of France. And when Johanna was questioned, though she remembered Allan’s mention of Mr. Todd, she did not allude to it thinking that if the Beadle was missing, he probably had something to do with the Judge’s murder. Of course, in the back of her mind she sometimes wondered if it really was that man, but did not ruminate on it. Meanwhile, Miranda Bamford could say nothing on the subject. Over the past few months, her husband had spent a great deal of time away. She had not a clue as to who he spent time with, thus making her unable to incriminate the Todds. 

Johanna now sat in the parlor eating lunch with Arthur. Two weeks prior, she had told him of his father’s death (this time for certain, though she left out the details of the murder).

“We were running from him, though, weren’t we?” Arthur asked unexpectedly. 

Johanna looked at him closely, “How did you…”

“Because I heard some of the conversation between you and him in the carriage ride when we first left. I know eavesdropping is bad, but I couldn’t help it. I tried to pretend I didn’t hear it.”

“No, it’s alright. And you are correct: I was running away from him. I can’t explain now, but when you are older, I will try to.”

“Is it because he was mean? He seemed mean.”

“Yes, he sometimes was, but it is a very long story and I think we should think of happier things for the time being.”

“Mum, will you be wearing black for a loooong time like the Queen or Cecil Baker’s mother?”

“I will have to wear it for a year, Arthur, and it will affect what activities I can and can’t do, but we can take walks and take trips to the sea. While I am in mourning, there will be certain things I must wear that will look very odd, but you cannot laugh at them in public. You can laugh at them here at home, but not when we are out amongst people.”

“Ok. Are we wealthy now? Did you inherit father’s money? Or did I? That’s what happened to Cecil’s oldest brother when their father died, remember?”

“I inherited the money, Arthur, but yes we are better off than we have ever been. And we can buy new toys for you and get a cat-“

“Can we buy a train set?”

“Yes, certainly.”

“Good. That’s all I need. I’m not greedy. Are you going to buy something expensive for yourself?”

“Well, not right now because it is considered vulgar to do so when one is in mourning, but I may buy some better art supplies.” The two continued to talk into tea time about what they would buy if they had an infinite amount of money. 

Johanna had decided that she would sell the house; she had thought about living in the cottage in Kent after having running water installed, but the cottage had gone to some distant relative of the Judge’s. She also decided to keep Ms. Foster if the housekeeper wished to stay in service. With the Judge gone, Ms. Foster was allowed to act more empathetically and at one point even began to apologize to Johanna for not trying to influence the Judge’s treatment of her, but Johanna stopped her. The past didn’t matter. She had to try and look toward the future. 

Ecstatic was not how Johanna would describe her emotional state after the Judge’s death. Surreal was a better word. She sometimes did not believe it could be real that the Judge was dead; she kept expecting him to walk through the front door again and be furious that both she and Arthur were outside of their separate rooms. When she was out with Arthur she also often had moments of panic where she feared the Judge was watching her from some secretive place. But then she would remember the morgue and how despite the blood smeared clothes and grey face, it was obviously the Judge’s body. 

The manner in which he had died also left Johanna feeling uncertain. It had been such a gruesome wound. Perhaps, if he had died one night at home one night in his study she could say “good riddance” or “thank you, Lord,” but to be stabbed and then cut was a terrible thing. She knew she did not feel as many widows – how strange to actually be one now after 8 years of pretending to be one – did when their husbands died. She supposed that a part of her was mourning for the Judge as her father. Perhaps if they were not still living in his house, she would not reflect on the times when she was younger and she had loved him. She had considered for a brief second redecorating the house but when she thought of the cost, Arthur’s health in London, and the fact that its haunting quality might never go away, she decided it would be better to simply move. But before she could do this, she knew she would have to look through all the old, hidden things in the house. She would have to look through the attic and his study and all the unused rooms and discover things that she was sure she would find unpleasant. This was something that would also have to be done alone.


	75. Secrets in the Attic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna begins the dull task of cleaning out the attic. Perhaps she'll discover something of significance.

That afternoon Johanna began her excavation of the attic. Ms. Foster and some of the other maids helped her by moving furniture and trunks against the walls to create a large space going down the middle of the room so that Johanna could have a central local to look through things and create piles. Ms. Foster also opened the windows of the attic, which helped greatly with the amount of dust in the gloomy room. 

Things, like old clothes and heavy furniture were to be sold with the house. Moving or burning them was too great a hassle. But what about old toys or documents? First Johanna went through a trunk filled with old clothes that appeared to be from the beginning of Queen Victoria’s reign. They were men’s cloths and we’re badly moth eaten; Johanna checked the pockets for things, but found nothing. There were several more trunks filled with old clothes that were mostly destroyed. However, she managed to find a few gems such as two golden broaches, a large cameo shell, and one completely intact veil of Breton lace. She consolidated the clothes into three trunks and placed them in the back of the attic. She found another trunk filled with old toys of hers; she took the salvageable ones and kept the others in the trunk. 

The two wardrobes came next. On the shelves of one were old books. Most were dusty old law volumes, but there were ten books of Shakespeare’s plays that looked like they belonged to the same collection as the Shakespeare plays downstairs. “So this is where they’ve been hiding all this time,” Johanna said shaking her head. She put the Shakespeare books in the pile of things to go downstairs and then went through the drawers of the wardrobe where more dusty clothes awaited her. The next wardrobe had much of the same. Instead of law books, though, the shelves were filled with dusty old filth magazines. She shook her head and rolled her eyes as she threw them in the pile for the incinerator. What she found in the drawers, however, did disturb her. They were filled with items clearly meant for torture; there were several pairs of handcuffs, a cat of nine tails, a white shirt that Johanna realized could be used to tie a person’s hands together, and decomposing feathers that she supposed could have been used for tickling. She was disgusted and spent a few minutes looking out the window to recollect herself. She knew these items weren’t used just for sexless torture. She would take it upon herself to burn these things herself.

She expected to find more naughty books or torture devices in the next drawer, but instead found a costume. It looked like it belonged to the colonial period, but was in such good condition that she knew it was not authentic. There was also a masquerade mask amongst the items that clearly denoted it was a costume. The red mask had a long black handle emanating from it, as well as an equally long nose. She spent some time looking at the long reddish trench coat and breeches and brocade waist coat. Johanna thought of the book she had left open the day she escaped; she supposed that this must have been an outfit he had worn to play out a fantasy or a scene from that book. And the white lady’s shawl? Perhaps it belonged to the lady he had enacted the scene with. Johanna quickly took the items to the discard pile and stomped on them, crushing the mask beneath her feet. 

She returned to the window for several minutes until she garnered enough courage to resume her task. As she walked back, though, she found a piece of paper on the ground. It was an invitation to a masked ball at the house dating from the year Johanna was born. She did not know why, but the object somehow seemed significant to her and she put it with the pile of things to be saved. She found nothing as interesting in the rest of her excavation of the attic, just more old clothes, discarded umbrellas, aged newspapers, and ragged taxidermy display animals. She was glad when she finally finished and was able to remove herself from the depressing attic and to take a bath to rinse off all the dust that covered her.

The next day she went through the few unused bedrooms, but found nothing to keep or discard. She knew both her own bedroom, the Judge’s bedroom, and study would be difficult endeavors, so she held off on doing these. 

As she perused the pile of objects she had collected from the attic, she was surprised to find that the invitation was missing.

“Ms. Foster, did you happen to drop the invitation from the saved pile when you brought the things down?”

“No, Mrs. Turpin. I put it in the discard pile. I assumed you accidentally dropped it in the pile of things you wished to keep.”

“Would you please bring it to me, unless you’ve already burned it?”

“Yes, ma’am, but may I ask why you wish to keep it? It is just an old piece of paper.”

“I know, Ms. Foster, but it holds a strange fascination for me.”

“Yes, of course, ma’am” Ms. Foster replied and left to presumably retrieve the invitation for Johanna. An hour later, when Johanna realized Ms. Foster had not returned, she went down to the kitchens to find her.

“Did you find the invitation, Ms. Foster?”

“Oh, Mrs. Turpin, I’m very sorry, but Minny tossed everything in the incinerator earlier today, including the letter.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, please pardon me” said the young servant.

“Oh, it probably wasn’t very important after all” Johanna replied and left the kitchen. She thought that Ms. Foster didn’t seem so keen on her having that invitation when she initially asked for it, but put it out of her mind. The paper was gone, what did it matter?


	76. A Ship's Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allan still grieves for the woman he cannot have.

Allan knew nothing of Judge Turpin’s death or Turpin’s kidnapping of Johanna. The day after their disastrous meeting, he left Wales only to return to England to discover an old debt of his had been called in. The loaner had thought Allan was running away before paying it and so began demanding money for it. Allan could not convince him otherwise and so he took a position with the navy to be a ship’s doctor and was then able to pay off the debt.

Part of his willingness to leave was his deep hurt in regards to Johanna. He told himself that “yes, perhaps she does like you and is only acting in such a manner as to protect herself and yourself from entering into a liaison and to shield you from her husband’s vengeance,” but regardless of this rationalization, her dismissal of grieved him. He did not blame her for being angry about coming to seeing her – he could have compromised her in various ways. However, he wished they had not had to part so badly once again. Why should he be so prevented from telling her how ardently he felt? Moreover, he thought, “What can I do to help her? I am penniless and my noble ancestry holds no sway in England. I would never think of murder, as Mr. Todd would. I am no match for the Judge in influence, money, power, or scheming.” 

For the first time in many years, the doctor felt listless and useless. Thus, it was not with a completely unwilling heart that he sailed away from England for some indefinite period of time.


	77. Painful Mementos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna continues her clearing of the house and comes upon old dolls and drawings. What memories will these stir up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter basically of pure fluff and Johanna thinking on her childhood. No real plot.

Johanna went through her wardrobes in both her bedrooms examining her old clothes. Some of them were quite old. None were ragged or torn, since Johanna had spent the better part of most days inside, but many were from when Johanna first began becoming a woman. Johanna put back the dresses she felt she could wear again after the mourning period finished and set aside the ones she could not stand to look at anymore or were unsuitable for a woman to wear 

In her bedroom, she looked under her bed and pulled out one of the trunks that held her old things. She found her old blankets and embroidery work. She had always found embroidery work deathly dull, though she did not mind sewing together a hem, since it seemed to serve some artistic and practical purpose. She embroidered because her governess had told her it was what fine ladies did to occupy the hours and the Judge enjoyed watching her hands move so swiftly and serenely. Even after her governess stopped coming when she was almost 15, she still practiced her embroidery for the sake of him and in hopes that she would come to enjoy it. But what did one do with the finished works? She enjoyed having some of her drawings framed and hanging in her bedroom or in the hall directly outside of it, but she did not receive any sense of enjoyment from looking at even her best works of embroidery. Hence, all her works had been kept in here. The governess said women sometimes gave them to friends, but she had none. Should she throw them away or have the maids turn them into rags? The seemingly uselessness of embroidery is what truly bothered her. Her initial attempts at embroidery had to go. She did not want anyone to see how crooked and sloppy her work was; even now it was an embarrassment.  
She finished setting aside the ones meant for the incinerator and the ones meant for rags, closed the trunk and placed it back under her bed. She pulled out her other trunk. She took the five dolls out gently and then looked through the artwork, carefully selecting the pieces that she would keep and ones she would throw in the fire. Her throw away pile only consisted of half-finished paintings and drawings, doodles, badly drawn animals, less accomplished pictures from her still-life phase, and failed attempts at copying famous works. She could not bear to throw most of the drawings out despite their lack of skill. She still had works she had etched or painted or drawn from when she was a little child: they were mostly of dream houses and far-off distant lands filled with merry people and enchanted situations. The sentimental and romantic side that once seemed to rule Johanna’s actions had subsided with her marriage and introduction to the wider world, but was by no means relinquished. It was this which prevented her from carelessly tossing away a little girl’s dreams and hopes.

Then she discovered the pictures that she had drawn a long time ago of this house. There were ones of she and the Judge together. The word “Father” was scrolled across several of them in a child’s hand. The first drawing like this she tossed aside into the jumble of papers meant for the fire. But when she came to the fourth one, where she and the Judge (“Father”) were looking out through a giant window in a big house in the middle of the country, surrounded by flowers and what she could only guess were drawings of cats, she broke down. She hadn’t wept this entire month and half since coming “home,” but now she was distraught. She closed the bedroom door, gladly remembering that Arthur was out with Ms. Lacreevy. Johanna wept on the floor for almost an hour, recalling memories.   
She managed to regain control of herself and decided that some other day she would look through the rest of the pictures. She carefully collected the drawings she wished to keep and put them back into the trunk neatly with the rest of the unsorted pictures. She carried the ones destined to be burned to her fireplace. 

Smoothing out her dress, Johanna’s gaze fell upon the dolls. They had served as her only companions for many years. Each one had its own significance and, until she married, one of the dolls had always remained either on her bed, bookshelf, or windowsill even after she stopped playing with dolls when she was around 13. After she married, she placed them all into this trunk; they reminded her too much of a former life. There was Johanna’s first doll, Marguerite; her face had splotches on it and her left arm was coming off. Marguerite had never been a particularly beautiful doll and now her appearance was tragic. There was the doll Johanna had bestowed with the name “Peggy” who was a small cloth and china doll with pudgy cheeks, red hair, and small eyes. Johanna always thought of her as being quite slow, but good hearted and, thus, she served as an assistant and best friend to Johanna’s favorite doll, Ellen. Ellen was a kind, smart, and practical girl who spoke her mind with grace and courage and occasionally, like Deborah or Esther or Judith from her Bible lessons, fought against tyranny. Her courage was perhaps Ellen’s most important trait.   
She stood up to the doll that Johanna had deemed the nemesis of her small toy collection: Agatha. With her angry eyebrows and overly red cheeks, Agatha was a stickler for the rules and was bossy, much like how Johanna viewed her governess. And then there was the last doll: Anne. Anne was the doll that Johanna rarely ever played with; she had elaborate ringlets and china face with glass eyes and donned a silk dress and bonnet adorned with lace. There was something about the delicate and yet audacious beauty that Johanna did not like and so she rarely played with her. Sometimes she would set her up on her bookshelf and sometimes she would hide her away in the toy trunk. When Anne was played with she was generally played with separate from all the other dolls; if she joined them, then it was as a detached tea party guest or cold friend of Agatha. What was an adult woman supposed to do with these dolls? Give them to her daughter or niece? She heard Ms. Foster knock on the door. 

“Enter”

“I brought you some tea, Mrs. Turpin. Oh, Mrs. Turpin, you’ve been crying.”

“Yes, but it’s passed, no need to trouble yourself” she said rubbing her temples.

“Why don’t you sit, ma’am?” Johanna obliged her. “You’ve got your dolls out, I see. I remember when Mr. Turpin came home with…Oh I’m sorry, ma’am.”

“No, it’s quite alright. I was just wondering what one did with ones old dolls. I suppose give them to a daughter or niece, but since I have neither…”

“But you might someday, Mrs. Turpin.” Johanna gave a light dismissive laugh and bit her lip, shaking her head. “I meant no harm, ma’am. It was not my place. Please don’t take any offence by what I said.”

“No, Ms. Foster, of course not. I’m not offended, but I don’t know… I suppose I’ll just place them back in the trunk and put it with the things that will go with us.” She paused looking over at the dolls and went over to them, “All except these two” she commented, holding up Agatha and Anne. “I don’t like the idea of bringing hostile spirits with me. I suppose I could put them in the attic, but there’s something distressing about dolls decaying up in some dusty room for decades…”

“Mrs. Turpin, if you would be so kind, I could give them to my niece’s daughter in Lincolnshire when I go to visit later this month. I doubt she’s ever owned a doll that refined” she said pointing to Anne.

“Yes, please do. That is a better solution. I hope she likes Anne more than I did and perhaps she can treat Agatha more pleasantly than I did.” 

Johanna gave the dolls to Ms. Foster and put the other three dolls in the trunk, then showed the housekeeper which things were designated for rags and which for the incinerator. She determined that along with her two trunks, she would take her books with her and, thus, she had finished sorting her old room. Now all that remained was to peruse the study.


	78. Case Closed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The murder of Judge Turpin is solved and put to rest

Mr. Todd placed a bag of coins and the Beadle’s cane into Captain Grey’s hand. 

“I think this should prove enough to set your crew’s opposition aside, Captain” 

“Aye, it most certainly will, Mr. Todd” smiled Captain Grey. “I wish you didn’t have to do anything for me considering the circumstances. You did the world a favor disposing of –“ 

“Gladly, my friend” Mr. Todd whispered hastily. 

The two men their goodbyes and walked away in separate directions. 

Captain Grey was a merchant shipman. His birth name was Peter Grady and, like Todd, had been sentenced by Judge Turpin. Grey's sentence was only for 15 years, but his younger brother’s was for life and his older brother had been sent to the gallows. Like Todd, he had taken on a pseudonym. In the Australian prison, the two prisoners had bonded over their sworn hatred of the Judge. They each made promises of vengeance. However, the Captain, being away from England a great deal, could was regrettably unable to enact his revenge. And, hence, when his friend approached him in Rome, Captain Grey jumped at the chance to help Todd complete the great work. 

Captain Grey was now sailing to London. Upon arrival, he was to tell the English authorities that a man named Robert Smith, carrying this cane, came aboard Grey’s ship in Madrid. The mysterious Mr. Smith then succumbed to fever while aboard. They had dumped his body in the Atlantic, as was the custom, and the only item they had of his was this cane. They would say that the deceased was not a good sailor and seemed like a “dodgy fellow,” paranoid that someone was watching him. To complete the picture, they would tell how in his fevered state, "Mr. Smith" spoke of a Judge and money, but they couldn’t make sense of it. 

The authorities would be able to deduce who the man actually was from the cane, which had the initials B.B. engraved upon it. The bag of money Todd had given to Grey was to pay off the crew. They would be complicit in the fabrication.

Thus, five months after the death of the Judge, Beadle Bamford’s guilt in the case and subsequent death would be confirmed and, Todd hoped, Johanna would not need to worry about ghosts of her past life coming back to haunt her.


	79. New Surroundings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna has moved to Bournemouth again and is finally finding peace.

Johanna sat brushing her hair at her dressing table. She and Arthur had just moved to Bournemouth a few weeks ago and were leasing a small house. The sale of her old home had not gone through yet and it was considered somewhat vulgar for a widow to buy a property outright. 

She and Arthur enjoyed Bournemouth, though they found it a tad ostentatious and fake. Moreover, the influx of tourists coming and going made it difficult to become acquainted with anyone, save if they weren’t dreadfully ill and ordered by physicians to stay there. Johanna’s mourning dress also made people weary of her; some, she could see, disapproved of her being out and about at all. 

Johanna, though understanding the delicacy of the mourning period after having it explained to her by Ms. Foster, had resolved that she would not follow the long, meticulous list of rules required of widows. She had been confined to a house for the better part of 18 years and spent the last 9 in hiding; she was not about to be told that she was going to stay locked away in a new home for over a year simply because society deemed it appropriate. She wore the black and did without the jewelry (though this was not hard considering most of it she never wished to wear again), abstained from restaurants, found the less populated beaches and piers for her and Arthur to stroll, and used the times when there weren’t so many people about to visit the more popular places. She would not be able to attend many of the events that Bournemouth held for another year, but because of the dearth of outdoor concerts, she did not feel too much at a loss. 

Meanwhile, Arthur enjoyed having friends again. In Portugal he had acquainted himself with some of the boys, but the language and cultural barriers always made their interactions short. In Wales, under the care of Ms. Sheen, he did not have the opportunity to go out much. Johanna was distressed to think it hadn’t really been since their life in Manchester that he had been able to have friends. Sometimes he befriended children who were tourists, but mostly he stayed close to 2 or 3 boys who were either here because of their own health or a parent’s health. 

With the reporting of the death of the Beadle, Johanna felt much more at ease. She had not realized till she had read of it three weeks ago that his continued existence was a source of fear. With the demise of both men, she felt that a pitiable and hellish chapter in her life had finally concluded. The two tormentors of her early life were gone forever and only the memories of them could haunt her. 

In her ever jovial manner, Ms. Lacreevy said, “You have a new lease of life, my dear.” Her old friend had come to Bournemouth to live with her for a few months – recompense free, of course – and was enjoying the cleaner air and new scenery she could paint. Ms. Lacreevy, along with Ms. Foster, helped Johanna look after Arthur. The two women took him to the park, as well as other places Johanna was not permitted to go. Johanna was also in the process of looking for a governess or tutor for him, though one that would differ drastically from her own as a child. 

Ms. Lacreevy made a good companion for Johanna, though she wished she knew other young women as she had by working as a seamstress, shop girl, and teacher. However, G had remarried (a doting older man it seemed) and moved to Portsmouth a few years ago as she found out from G’s sister who was now married to a bartender and had 4 children, making her a less than available friend. Johanna had the odd coincidence of bumping into Mr. Lawrence while walking on the pier. He was with his wife whose bonnet blew off in the wind. Johanna returned it to her only to hear “You!” She looked at the man. It took a minute for her to recognize him.

“Mr. Lawrence, what a strange turn of events. Are you still in law here.”

“Yes, well, no, actually I’ve become one the leading lawyers for law throughout the county of Dorset, haven’t I, Adelaide?” He boastfully commented looking down at his wife.

“Yes, my dear, you have.” The woman then introduced herself. She had a high-pitched voice and curly hair, but was very attractive. Johanna was happy Mr. Lawrence had found a partner.

“You have gotten remarried, have you not, Mrs. Christie? And lost him again?”

“Yes, indeed, Mr. Lawrence” she cautiously said remembering how she told him she never planned on wedding again. She parted ways with the couple wondering what pompous white lies Mr. Lawrence would tell about their relationship. 

Johanna felt incredibly lucky at this moment that two events had eclipsed her husband’s death in the papers: a radical new parliamentary bill and several gruesome murders all apparently perpetrated by the same person using chloroform and strangulation. The first day after the news was released about her husband’s death, it did seem that the press would sensationalize the story of a Judge being murdered by a fellow government official. This of course would entail their searching into Johanna’s past and probably finding out about her early claims to widowhood, but this had not happened. She remained a private citizen, much to her happiness.  
While she was aware that the London papers did of course print the story of her husband’s death, the possibility of the Beadle’s involvement, and now of the Beadle’s death, Johanna instructed Ms. Lacreevy not to write of both it and her holiday in Bournemouth to Allan in her Christmas card to him. Ms. Lacreevy, Johanna discovered, had already written to the doctor about the murder of Mr. Turpin (“Just a week after it happened, deary. Was that wrong?”), but she felt that if Ms. Lacreevy also wrote of her stay with Johanna here, Allan would interpret it as he had the painting. Perhaps, he would think that Johanna had told Ms. Lacreevy to write of her. There then was the additional difficulty of what he would think of her for not sending some sort of missive to him, whether through Ms. Lacreevy or on her own accord. Johanna wondered, “Would it hurt him to only hear about me through a mutual friend? Or would it hurt him to hear directly from me? Perhaps he wishes to hear nothing from me or concerning me at all.” 

She knew she was in love with him, but she was unsure if she ever wanted to marry again and be re-introduced to the duties that went with marriage. Neither did she wish for Allan to imagine there was tenable hope in a union between them nor for her to reignite those passions within herself if he no longer felt them.


	80. Quiet for Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ms. Lacreevy, old romantic that she is, realizes how blind she was to her friends' growing admiration for each other.

Ms. Lacreevy had finally come to understand that there was an awkwardness between her two friends and that it was not unrelated to matters of the heart. She had determined that while her friend was still in deep mourning, she would not allow herself to comment upon this, but perhaps at a more suitable date, she would. Ms. Lacreevy was not entirely sure of the details of either Johanna’s marriage or of what occurred at the last meeting between Dr. Woodcourt and her friend. In regards to the latter, she gathered the marriage had been loveless and even violent. 

And from what Johanna had communicated to her about the doctor, Ms. Lacreevy knew her friend was ashamed of how ungrateful she must have appeared to Dr. Woodcourt during their last few encounters. Johanna stated she was embarrassed of how Allan must think that she did not appreciate his friendship or skill as a doctor, but Ms. Lacreevy, after reflecting upon the two young persons’ interactions with each other in her parlor, saw that she had been blind to the growing passions between Johanna and Allan. 

So, yes, for the time being, she would remain quiet about this and would follow Johanna’s wishes of not writing to Allan of her new found freedom. Besides, Ms. Lacreevy had only received one letter from Allan and it was one he had written before the death of Mr. Turpin. It took months for letters from abroad to arrive in London.


	81. In Bombay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allan remains ignorant of Johanna's whereabouts and situation. What is his heart telling him?

Allan, sitting on a bench in Bombay’s Victoria Gardens, could hardly believe how slow the post was in arriving to India and what state it was in when it arrived. To spend months on a ship and be welcomed with missives that were torn or waterlogged was a lackluster greeting indeed. He had several letters from Ms. Lacreevy, which were drenched with water, none from Mr. Todd, and a whole stack of almost perfectly intact ones from his mother. The Christmas card from Ms. Lacreevy, luckily, was ship-shape. Allan was surprised to see it was addressed from Bournemouth. At first, he was worried that she had come down with some sickness, but in her letter, all appeared well. She must be visiting a friend, he mused. The missives from his mother were long-winded and full of directions to not let the English men pretend they knew more about the sea than did he, a Welshman and descendent of Morgan Ap-Kerrig. However, her fifth letter did contain an interesting piece of information: The lady who had done the drawing and worked in the hat shop had mysteriously moved. Her employer had no idea of where she had gone or why. His mother considered it quite rude. Allan, though, knew it was simply another move to make herself further untraceable.

He had had few moments to think upon Johanna the first months of his life at sea. There were many other duties required of him than simply acting as ship’s surgeon and he had to accustom himself to the behavior of his fellow men. Even when the ship was caught in the doldrums, he had much work to do because so many men fell ill. The new recruits were especially prone to experiencing panic due to never having been on a boat before or being stuck in sweltering weather. Despite having spent much time on boats as a child, even he was not prepared for the horrid bleakness of looking out across the ocean and viewing nothing but stagnant water whilst being trapped in what felt like a warm, damp blanket. During this time, he would sometimes see Johanna in his feverish dreams, but when he awoke, he pushed her out of his mind.

However, later, when the officers and privates became more comfortable with him, he had no choice but to think of her as all the men appeared to simultaneously be afflicted with the same incurable illness: nostalgia feminam. Some of the men were more graphic and crude about their longings, while others were able to wax more poetically about these same yearnings. Then there were those who were homesick for their mothers and others who dreamed of the pretty, young girl from next door who kissed them before they departed. Few men on the ship were married, but those who were became desperate for their wives and children, even those who had boasted of their jollity to be released from their cursed shackles. The few other married men who had not mouthed of reacquiring freedom, Allan felt were more similar to him. 

In the private cabins and up on the deck and during meals, he would listen to all these men compose odes glorifying the wonders of the female form and temperament in their own idiosyncratic fashions. Allan would often stay quiet during these moments in the dining cabin, thinking upon Johanna. However, when talking with these various men alone, especially the young shipman, he vocally sympathized with them and did what he could to cheer their spirits, knowing there were some illnesses neither caused by outside forces nor remedied by medicinal ones. When his crewmates asked him about his woman, for surely a man his age had one, he simply replied that he had been in love and knew the stings of it, but did not have the finances to marry one yet. He could not tell them the woman he loved was married and even had a child. It was too scandalous. If the cruder sailors caught wind of it, their minds would add their own seamier ideas, denigrating it. Of course, his thoughts were not pure as snow, but neither had they ever been acted upon. He had never even kissed her. 

Johanna probably had no knowledge of his departure to sea. She most likely believed him to still be acting as a physician to the poor of London. He wondered where she could now be; he doubted she had remained in Wales since the rest of the country was plagued with rain. Perhaps, he thought, she had gone to the Channel Islands or the Isle of Wight. The desirable locations on the continent were most certainly implausible; her husband had seen to that. There was always America, of course. If Arthur had recovered his health, a trip to the western part of America might not be so difficult. 

Allan found himself repeatedly agonizing over the realization that he might never know where she was and never see her again. Someday he might by sheer happenstance hear of her and surely within the next two decades Mr. Turpin would have to die, but Johanna and he might be dead by that time. 

When he finished reading the final letter from his mother, which detailed the terrible cold she was afflicted with, he left the gardens and went to a shop to purchase postcards to enclose with his letters to Ms. Lacreevy and his mother. He would write a short, general missive to Mr. Todd, but would not expend his energies as he had before composing a detailed one; the man might have believed it better to not set to paper the facts of such a delicate situation. Or perhaps Mr. Todd had nothing new to report and wished not to waste funds on the postage. Or perhaps the barber had given up the chase, as it seems Allan had. But then Allan then remembered the blackness of Mr. Todd’s face as his friend related the sad tale of the Barkers. No, Allan told himself, he would not have abandoned the mission; at least not willingly.  
Allan forced himself not to think upon Johanna as he walked the streets of Bombay. A few brothel owners slithered out of alleyways to ask him, the nice English gentleman, to visit their “store” and Allan shook them away. He was glad for their appearance, however, because they reminded him that he would need several types of medicine to address the issues that his fellow sailors were sure to return to the ship with.


	82. Missed Letters and Opportunities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Allan Woodcourt has returned to London. Is there finally hope of a reunion between he and Johanna?

Allan was making his way home after a little over two years in service to Her Majesty’s Navy. Within two years, he had learned how to be more resourceful with medicine, as well as learned of effective Indian cures for certain maladies. Most of his service had been spent aboard a ship, but he had had the opportunities to see Bombay, Calicut, and Pondicherry in India, as well as various continental ports. He, along with the crew, had received much praise after assisting men from another ship’s wreck. Their captain had seen smoke from a distance and being a seasoned sailor who predicted what that much smoke in open waters was, quickly had the men change course. Allan felt he had done nothing; the captain instructed him to wait aboard ship as the other men retrieved the living souls that he would administer aid to. Several of the cases were life threatening and he had helped save them. One case had required a major amputation, but he was the only medical man aboard so of course he had done his duty.

With the conclusion of his ship’s quarantine, he would now be allowed to walk the streets of London. And with the money he had earned from the Navy combined with that from his mother’s will, he would be able to pay off all debts and the interest that he had incurred. He had contemplated locating a new appointment in the Navy, but thought better of it. He would return if the situation was that desperate, but he would first try to reestablish himself in London and if that did not work, elsewhere in Britain. 

He received the news of his mother’s death in a telegram in Bombay 5 months ago, 3 months after the actual event itself. It had been a hard blow to his senses seeing as his mother had always appeared as such an impregnable force his entire life, a sturdy rock alone in the sea, jutting out and withstanding winds and tidal changes. Receiving her final letters then, too, was jarring. She had become ill with pneumonia and finally wasted away, bemoaning the absence of her only child. In his private moments, Allan found himself wishing he had been a better son and done more than simply humor her opinions. What set him at ease was that she had received news of his “heroic” deeds before her death and had been proud of the continuing tradition of Morgan Ap-Kerrig. 

As he walked from the shipping yards, Allan was not filled with a sense of relief that he was finally upon his native soil or that he would no longer have to endure the heat of India or the rollicking of the sea. Instead, the doctor felt ennui. There was no welcoming party composed of his friends or family to greet him. Neither was there the promise of never returning to insurmountable debt. It was an anticlimactic ending to his sea career and a rather pitiful resumption to his former life. Ms. Lacreevy had written that she would return to the city in four days time after her holiday exploring the castles and large homes of Sussex concluded. Until then Allan could visit some of his old friends. Old friends who knew nothing of the Turpin saga. About a year ago, he received a letter from the Todd’s residence which read, 

_Dr. Woodcourt,_

_The Todds have moved. No one knows where to. We burn all the letters you send to us unopened. Stop sending letters._

Allan was surprised to read this. Mr. Todd seemed dedicated to the search and London seemed a good place to operate from. However, Allan pondered, maybe Todd has given up the chase for now and granted his wife’s wish to move to the seaside. Maybe he’s found her but cannot disclose the details. Ms. Lacreevy appeared to be equally ignorant. She did not know where the Todds were either.

Allan went to a cheap hotel and checked in. The next day he retrieved the money he had earned and saved. He went to the locations of his debtors and paid them back, though not without receiving some snarky criticisms. He travelled to where his old rooms were only to find that the building had been revamped to attract a better (more profitable) cliental. He would clearly not be able to return to his old home. He then found his way to the various locations of his old clients who he hoped were still in good health and residing in the same places. He did not know how much more change he could endure.   
Over the next five days, Allan spent his time visiting old friends, some of whom he administered aid to since they had been unable to seek medical help for free since he left, and looking in the newspaper and boards outside the unemployment offices for viable positions as a surgeon elsewhere. Allan was now making his way to Ms. Lacreevy house after visiting another former patient. 

“Dr. Woodcourt. How good it is to see you!” Ms. Lacreevy warmly greeted him as she opened her door. She showed him to the parlor while she excitedly told him about the various cakes she had purchased and the full tea tray she had, finally ending, “You must tell me every detail about Bombay and Rome, Dr. Woodcourt!”  
“I shall try, though I won’t be able to tell you much of Rome. I wasn’t able to spend much time there” Allan said as he began to tell her about the conditions in India and the wonderful landscapes and hateful heat and rains and the more savory details about life aboard a ship. When he finished he said, “But now you must tell me of your own journeys. Your letters while I have been gone have mentioned all these travels you have taken, but you never seem to go into much detail about them. I should very much like to hear of some things about my own land.”

“Well, the trips to Brighton and now to Sussex were most delightful. I have had an incredibly agreeable time taking in the warmer and cleaner air. I even thought about moving there, but I would miss the atmosphere of London.”

“Yes, your letters seem to talk much of Brighton. I was worried you were going there for your health and perhaps you were, you look much better than when I left” Allan said concerned. Ms. Lacreevy thanked him and went to retrieve more tea. She felt a bit awkward discussing her own adventures since they concerned Johanna. She had always had the bad habit of saying the wrong thing to the wrong person at the wrong time and in regards to this matter she had been on her best behavior so far. Since Allan had never written of Johanna in any of the letters he sent to her nor did he ever ask for Johanna’s address, she deduced it was best not to mention their friend. In one letter, Ms. Lacreevy had related how their friend was living in Brighton, but apparently, Allan had not made the connection. 

When Ms. Lacreevy reentered the parlor, Allan asked, “Ms. Lacreevy did you complete any drawings of the castles? I have not had the opportunity to explore the English countryside very much or its castles. I am sad to say that I am looking for employment outside of London currently. Perhaps one of your photos will inspire me” he said affably knowing how much Ms. Lacreevy adored showing off her drawings.

“I did indeed!” she responded excitedly, nearly dropping the tea tray as she headed towards her desk and only to quickly return to the parlor table to put down the tray. She showed Dr. Woodcourt several of her prized ones, as well as pointing out to him using her map where the artwork was completed. As she finished showing him her selected pictures, the doorbell to her shop rang. She excused herself and left. 

Allan sighed and opened the portfolio. He looked through a few of Ms. Lacreevy pictures, taking in the lush greens and vibrant blues of the landscapes. He stopped when he came across a painting of a woman and a little boy standing by a pond near a ruin of a castle. It was an expertly done watercolor. Allan stared at it and could not help but think that Ms. Lacreevy had done a portrait of what she probably suspected Arthur and Johanna would look like in her new holiday spot. He became lost in the picture, looking at how the woman was bending from the waist to show the little boy how to hold a stone for skimming.

“Yes, that is a nice one” he heard Ms. Lacreevy reply, startling him. 

“I’m sorry, Ms. Lacreevy. I shouldn’t have looked through your things. And you’re more than right. It is a very lovely picture. Why did you not show it to me?”

“I’m not quite finished with it yet, Dr. Woodcourt.”

“Is it…is it supposed to be of our friends, Ms. Lacreevy?” Allan asked slowly.

“Yes, it is of them. I am glad you have finally brought them up Dr. Woodcourt. I felt so awkward trying to not mention them.” 

“No need for awkwardness, Ms. Lacreevy.”

“Well, when you never mentioned either Johanna or Arthur in the letters back to me, I felt you must not want to discuss them with me.”

“What could there be to discuss, Ms. Lacreevy?” Allan asked rhetorically without thinking. “I’m sorry, you’ve caught me in odd spirits, Ms. Lacreevy. Who was that at the door?”

“Oh, just a man returning for the portrait of his wife. Here,” she said flipping through the portraits and bringing out another few pictures. “You might like these, as well, though I do not think they are as good.” 

The four drawings were of Johanna and Arthur. Allan smiled at Ms. Lacreevy nervously. While he had found one image of the pair charming to see that his friend had done five from her memory distressed him a little. He worried that poor Ms. Lacreevy had become obsessed with the fate of their friends, believing herself to be a blameable party in the matter as she had done when Johanna left London so suddenly. The doorbell rang again and Ms. Lacreevy left. 

When she returned, Allan cautiously asked, “And you have been feeling alright, my friend, not taking too much on?”

“I’ve never felt better, doctor. Being with younger people always seems to revive ones spirits. I know that riding in carriages and on trains is a stressful business, but when one is greeted by ones friends at the station then everything else is forgotten.” 

She then became regretful, “Oh, Dr. Woodcourt, did anyone come to welcome you home? Tell me your return did not go unnoticed.”

“Unfortunately, it did Ms. Lacreevy, but it is of no matter. I found my friends quickly enough.” Continuing in a more serious tone, he inquired, “What friends are these that you speak of, Ms. Lacreevy. Are they family?” 

Ms. Lacreevy had once told him how her whole family descended from London and that she hardly knew anyone outside of it. He was worried that she was beginning to be afflicted with either seemingly harmless forgetfulness or something more dangerous. 

“Dr. Woodcourt, I of course mean our friends. I should not have spoken so glibly of it, perhaps it has hurt your feelings that they were not there to greet you, though, you know, I think Johanna wanted to be there.” 

Allan was now fully beset with worry. Ms. Lacreevy did not appear to be speculating, but speaking of something she knew was true, which wasn’t possible. He wanted to delve further, but Ms. Lacreevy had an appointment to paint someone and Allan had to leave.

Two days later he returned, prepared to ask Ms. Lacreevy some questions that he felt would help him discover if she had become _touched_. If she had, he could do nothing for her in that regard except be her friend and help protect herself from herself. 

“Ms. Lacreevy,” he began after the pleasantries had been completed. “Ms. Lacreevy, the other day when I was here, you seemed to say that Johanna and Arthur have been there to greet you at the station. What did you mean by that?”

“Well, just what it sounded like, Dr. Woodcourt. They were there to greet me. They are the ones who have been kind enough to let me stay in their home in Bournemouth and Brighton, and now Arundel in Sussex and they took me with them to see the castles.” 

“Ms. Lacreevy, you are saying that you have gone to all these places outside of London with them?” he said concernedly.

“Well, yes. I thought you knew that that was who I was visiting in all my letters. I thought you deduced that from the letter where I informed you our friends moved to Bournemouth from London.”

“Ms. Lacreevy, they went to Brighton to Portugal to Wales, not to Bournemouth” Allan said forgetting he had never told her of seeing Johanna in Wales or knowing where she had lived prior to that.

“Yes, I know, but then Johanna and Arthur were found by her husband and brought back here –to London, I mean and then there was that murder, and they moved to Bournemouth and then to Arundel. I wrote all of this to you, well except their most recent move.”

“Ms. Lacreevy what murder are you talking about? I feel as if you are speaking in riddles.”

“The murder of Mr. Turpin, Dr. Woodcourt. You surely cannot have forgotten that? I wrote to you of it in several letters.”

Allan examined Ms. Lacreevy face; was she mad or had these things really happened. He thought of the various lost and unreadable missives he had received over the years. His heart had stopped and he felt disconnected from his body. Momentarily, his eyesight was taken from him and all that lay before him was darkness. 

“Ms. Lacreevy, if this is true, then I have received no news of it. Some of the letters I received were badly damaged and others I dare say were lost along the way. Please tell me what you are speaking of.” 

Ms. Lacreevy looked at her friend, “Oh, Dr. Woodcourt, is that true that you did not receive this piece of news? Oh, this explains why you never mentioned them. I hardly know where to begin. I suppose at the place where your knowledge stops. Wales, I suppose that would be. As you know, our friends lived there and Johanna worked at a shop-“

“A hat shop in Pembrokeshire.”

“Yes, for a French lady. Well, one day, she returned home to find her husband and his friend there. Do you remember them?”

“Yes, of course, Ms. Lacreevy. They were in her house, but how?”

“It’s very troubling to report, but the women who took care of Arthur during the day was the one who wired Mr. Turpin after she found some sheet of paper detailing who Arthur really was. The two men took her and Arthur back to London with them.”

“Good God,” Allan swore. “What happened next. She cannot still be married to the monster.”

“No, that is where the details of the terrible murder come in. Mr. Turpin was found murdered a few days later –“

“By whom?”

“Upon my soul, it was the fat short one, the bee or the bat-“ 

“The Beadle, Ms. Lacreevy?”

“Yes, the one who was having us watched. Dreadful murder.”

“Why did the man kill Judge Turpin? They were partners in deviousness.”

“It had something to do with the Beadle’s debts and the Judge’s refusal to help him pay them.”

“And where is the Beadle now?”

“Dead. A few months later, a captain came forward saying the man boarded his ship and killed himself. He had his cane to prove it was him.”

“This is astonishing, Ms. Lacreevy” Alan breathed. 

He felt that Ms. Lacreevy was telling the truth, that this wasn’t a figment of her imagination or a trick of her mind; the story was far too detailed. He only required a piece of tenable evidence. 

“You don’t happen to have the obituary of either man do you, Ms. Lacreevy.”

“No…But I do have this” she went to her desk and pulled out a piece of paper which she gave to Allan. It was a heading about the finding of Beadle Bamford’s cane and his certain demise. 

“This is amazing, Ms. Lacreevy” he gasped. He felt himself barely able to breathe. “Where is it you said they were living?”

“Oh, Dr. Woodcourt, you are as white as a ghost. Drink this tea. Did you really not know? You poor boy. Oh, and when I thought you were angry at her; she certainly thinks you are.”

“Why did she never right to me?”

Ms. Lacreevy hesitated. “Like I said, I think when you did not mention her, she felt that you were upset at the way things had been left….I think too she worried that she would only encourage her own feelings if she wrote to you.”

“Her own feelings…But you did not write of her whenever you took these trips.”

“She thought it best for me not to after I told her of your response and because I think she did not want to…I don’t know, Dr. Woodcourt. Young people and love are all so very confusing, especially to a spinster like me. I could never really understand her instructions to me when I realized what existed between you two, what I had been so blind to when she lived in this house. I thought that if she loved you, then she should write to you and find out for herself if you shared those feelings, but she refused to.”

“Because she does not, Ms. Lacreevy. You have answered your own question.” There was an air of bitterness to his statement, but mostly he lamented this fact.

“No, I am sure she did – no, does love you, Dr. Woodcourt. I did not mean to say “if” but because.”

Allan looked down at the news clipping. This was all so much to take in. “Ms. Lacreevy are you sure that is what you meant?”  
“Yes, I am positive.”

Allan felt as if he could run to Arundel immediately, but something held him back. He got up from the couch and looked outside the window. Johanna might have loved him, but what did that really mean? She still might refuse him. She might want to spend the rest of her life unmarried. He sensed about Johanna a fear of letting herself be truly happy. And what would he, an unemployed, poor physician, say to her? No doubt she had money of her own, but would it not seem pitiable for him to offer himself to her in this condition. He would have been able to quiet these doubts if it had not been for the fact that he had been rejected twice. However, the thought of simply returning to his rooms with this information distressed him. He felt that he if he didn’t go to her now, he would risk putting it off forever. He would risk never knowing the truth. 

“Ms. Lacreevy, do you think that if I were to go to her now and explain, she would not be perturbed by my appearance?”

“I do not know, Dr. Woodcourt, I really cannot say, but I think she would be pleased to see you.”

Allan hesitated. Knowing her answer would be better than not knowing it and even if she refused his romantic pursuits, she hopefully would not refuse his offer of friendship. 

“Then I think I shall go, Ms. Lacreevy.”

“To Arundel, Dr. Woodcourt?”

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh miscommunication a la Sense and Sensibility.
> 
> This is the last chapter I finished when I wrote this story a few years ago. Hopefully, I can actually finish the tale, but I'm a bit stuck. Any comments are greatly appreciated and thank you for reading!


End file.
